Alamo Theory // Josh Bell

poem 6.
Alamo Theory
Josh Bell

How we loved your pork chops, fell out of carriages
to love them.  When time was a problem.  At first how cautiously, but then how many

and how often.  Why we broke into their bones
like they were banks, tossed our plunder to the river's

bloated crib. How we loved your pork chops, dreamed them sliced by rising helicopter
     blades
from a pink strip of daybreak, saw then drop like stone tablets into soy fields

and how the helicopters followed, dropping like banks into soy fields
the green of dental floss. Wherein we watched ourselves in hand mirrors, eating your
     pork chops

and claiming your pork chops loved us back. How you left so many bodies behind
when time was a problem.