A squint-eye split
the clothespins of figures
charred sticks
tethered to a fence
of gnaw-worn teeth
or chipped hoof
are they a petroform
or herd canyon stuck
in fear of guns the dams the sun
skin leather long ago
retreat to splinter fossils
rock-drill sun-drill split a spark
dry hammer and punch
to the roil of iron gut
this drought is
hard to spit.