I plugthe deer-sensorinto the campinggenerator& turn the dialwe walk to the waterwe stick in our tonguesto swallow the droppingsof cyborg deerwe came to murderthe hoofprint moonslike a fucked-up heartproperty rendedof blinking traffica continual summeror surrenderwhen I shut my eyesthe ferns around mewe drive several miles in the truckwith a spider makinga web in the bedit sways in the windthe world makes formsand the king makes fencesto keep us from killingourselves on the gorgesin the name of patrilineal virtueand implied liabilitycall this numberif you want to diethe deer-sensor singsthe wind hits leavesand we follow prints to a thicketwhere the animatronic deerbuilt a living spacethe nomadic creatures move each hourtheir television blaringtheir paisley couch where they sitand drink coffee and watch Bambi and crya nuclear family producedthrough the law of the fatherwe come for them quietwe see them sleepingthe king made us killersor we made the kingand I walk behind the buckand slit his throatand we poison the fawnand crush the doeand the eyes leave the socketsthere is no bloodthere are only springsand wire and gearsrollicking gently across makeshift beddingwe stare in the iriswe see the reflectionthe wires holdwe see the king leave the bathand water drips downhis lean white bodyhe sits on the edge of the tubhis balls hang limphe shuts his eyesand his tears start runninghow do we killin the garden we’re building