how much are any of us here
really here no I don’t want to
complain much less advise with all
the heat water and chemicals
seeping out only to be replaced for
what seven years at best and each
smudged in its own special way
and the usual team less and less
able to do the job until we’re all
out on the street packaged in little
bags to be dumped in a special spot
where we loved to play and why not
we must found a shining brand for our
flank or wear the mark of some stranger
Tag: heat
-
-
never managed to apologize to
the heat(First published in The Pan Haiku Review.)
-
Sonnet
in what may have been a park weeds
without flowers climb white clouds cling
to the mountain an open wound
that won’t stop oozing broken mouths
growl in rusted junk chain-link yardsthe town gets smaller with every
breath though they never think to bite
the hands that keep them in cages
while kids throw stones at a hornet’s
nest dream of pills and lotterywins and the dog no longer feels
the chain that choked his younger daysand those who ran away still see
themselves mirrored in cracked black stone
-
Sonnet
with what time is left listen to
air conditioners drop drop drop
on the used tea bag of summer
while the waves of heat hit you on
uneven shards of sidewalk—though
later perhaps you’ll find some sweet
solitude and dream some drip could
bring a forgotten bloom or rare
herb back but the brink keeps creeping
and that green shade so far away—
so retreat to concrete above
the noise but not the heat and make
a quiet in which your fingers
if nothing else may sprout some leaves
-
I.
His clothes so out of fashion you wonder
if the gentle breeze from the willow will
shatter him into an ant hill of teeth
and trinkets you can sell at the marketII.
Your fabled jewel that could
end the conflict but when
you tell the story drops
of blood fall from your handIII.
Tended with a heat gentle as
breath until the crow bubbles up
soon you will understand her voice
as though you too were from the moon
-
when we meet at which cafe or museum shop
I will be all smiles and jokes but looking
left and right too often as though some shadow
but what are you watching these days what post
made you rage? this black mud around my feet
never mind I see your shoes are dark as well
but why don’t we talk about dessert instead
of the world war of the week or even
this flattening heat you say you saw something
that reminded you of something and something
something
so leaves a ghost
still hungry that refuses to tip
-
who birthed
a stone
shining
through cries
broken
picked it
up kiss
kiss put
it down
this white
page still
hates me
no that’s
silly
after
all the
great sea
flashes
stop that
the night
humid
for what
was his
name John
didn’t
he have
a big
something
car and
maybe
I’m wrong
headed
eyebrows
foreheads
who walk
by my
window
why do
they breathe
so close
to me
so pick
up the
white page
try to
forget
the names
swarming
the heat
other animals 