DIRT
The rust haloed
the gas tank.
Dusty, this town
& all the trucks
that pile up
in the junkyard.
What's morning
& what does it say
about mourning?
How much sun
can the sky take
before it gives up?
This isn't prayer.
How do you kneel
for anything other
than selfishness?
Justin Carter's poems appear in The Collagist, cream city review, The Journal, Redivider, & Sonora Review.