Laughter and War by David Kruger

Ask me about my howling
Weekend in a strangers bed.

Or what fleshed in morning
What, hung like a malady

The horizons held
Concordantly in la-ti-das

In the hangovers
And the congress of all he does.

Ask me to leave
But to be left so dangerous

And felled like a dog
With a jarring woof

Or when passing
Old oaks on old roads,

Ask me why
Extinction is a coming

Of age. Or if Ive had enough,
But never ask how much.