Colby Cotton

Canisteo Invocation

From hydro-fracked waters and sold-off land.
From fist print in plaster walls, skinned hand

and scraped knee. From flame-lit palms
on burning barrels and blown-out tires, copper
wire and strung-up doe. From spark plugs

and driveshafts and wooden dollies.
From trash fires blown to life:
came my sun-driven body from the trailer

parks to fields to factories. Came my body
risen like brushfire in ragweed.
Where the hazed breath of steer burned off

the yards, and all my teeth loosened. I woke
in the pale flame of myself at the edge
of the slaughterhouses. My body built into its furnace.