I went down on the universe and she gave me crabs like tiny itching stardust.

Now I walk around fresh from razor and medicated shampoo, a baptized and immediately excommunicated member of the Jackalope cult: giddy-nauseous, manscaped, a marble Adonis about to vomit off gin and tonic with eyes only for fur, for her fur.

I had one last vision of the Jackalope, that Freudian slit, in a dark Dakota plain – the Badlands –

no rails, ties or howling train here, just grass and churning night.

She loped towards me and with each bunch

and release of haunches the light changed.

Night to day and back again until she reached me and gored my side with her antlers, flipping out a grapefruit tumor like grease off a hot griddle.

And I thanked her as she lay on my wheezing chest in the flattened grass and blood and spilled cancer.

I said to the Jackalope in this dream that felt so real except for all happiness, “I like it when your mascara drips. It’s sexy, like you’ve been crying, like I come upon you in sorrow and I comfort you.”

Anger has a way of surfacing because grief is to strong of an emotion to succumb to. Humans do not want there tears leaking out because they believe it is weakness and that is when anger comes. "Anger is a way to show strength." One person says while the other asks "why." Truth is nobody really knows why its all a matter of opinion. Anger is an emotion where people suffer. They will beat themselves up or be angry at other people because they don't want to face the actual problem. Grief is a different story, you are facing your emotions head on and it is powerful. People withdraw and exclude themselves from everything just to spend time dwelling on the loss that they have encountered. A person who allows themselves to grieve is strong because they don't hide.