Pony Payroll Bones talkin Wilderness
by Matthew PonY Bones Proctor

Wilderness Retract

The native land was
With monsters

The native land will
With monsters

When I wash my hands
In the roar of the river
     They vanish

When I wash your hands
in the roar of the river
They also vanish.

    A dog runs
Out of the dark emerald woods
    It has no face

My teeth are sharp.

    The sun is one
Fierce shadow shouting with
Sunbeams clawing.