i wrote this at the end of my degree chasing at Middle Tennessee. It was certainly inspired by, if not homage to e.e. cummings.

tired.
shot all to hell
like a riddled card
against the tree
attacked
by Wild Bill’s six-shooter;
weather abates:
sultry heat,
hazy skies
demand rain.
but when will it fall
down
in pellets,
which riddle
the lawn like that gunshot
penetrated
pasteboard?