impoverished by the tithes of wine
use my body, take my mind
He didn’t accept my offering
Heart of Cain
black smoke on the horizon
sea levels on the rise
risen in the dead of night
forsaken son
seined the depths hoping to
snag his body
flames fanned by self-despair
loose lips sank through trial and error
once lost at sea now washed up
drunk, stoned, and alone in the desert
dressed to kill and nowhere left to go
it suits me

Rucio Panza lives in Iowa in a town along the banks of the Mississippi river.