Words on the Zero Line

 

At the sound of a Russian helicopter, the tree found

a front tooth—so optimistic!, everybody laughed
like zombies, like a wall of meat, within weeks

the scared shrapnel in the ankle and knee adapted

to the agitation of something whistled overhead,
I only trust Bison, the bravest bad place said,

to reach the zero line, the forty-two-year old father

of three mastered his fear and whacked the prim
goatee, even during the rape she was aware

she would eventually hold on to the memories,

the quad is not the quad but a sense of pride, 
his appeal was denied, obviously, sir, you have this

ferocious doubt, it creeps in and goes back out.