In The Throw / by Dean Terry

(looking up god’s name)


You find it in the throw
The flick in the smoke

The wrist snaps because the neck
The fire lands where it will

An arc of aching
From hand to helmet

The crackling shields
Collect the spit

We don’t know the name
But the color is choking collapse

Empire falls
Backward into its shadows


5/31/2020