I got my dream pills.

They’re wrapped in tin foil
And it’s going to be alright.

I got sweet Billy with me
And he’s still breathing and
It’s beautiful, what they’re telling us.

Got my enzymes, a nickel bag of
Electrolytes. My entire life,
I’ve been waiting for this.

I got my radio on.

I’ve got it hooked into a chip
And lodged inside a suburb of thought
In my brain, somehow.

And it’s weird, how it’s wired.

I can hear the fires.

I can hear the daisies
As they fell the desert.
Pretty machete like
Paper Mache confetti of
Dropped cluster bombs and now

I can hear the Black
Hawks wild in their swarm and
I’ve got my horses and
I’m holding beautiful Billy in my arms.

It’s like a song.

Cynthia Cruz is the author of Ruin. Her poems have been published in The New Yorker, Paris Review, Boston Review, Kenyon Review, and others. Her second collection is forthcoming from Four Way Books. She is the Hodder Fellow in poetry for 2010-2011.