White Heat
This dry moment
we lay in sweat beds.
Limp flowers turned
into themselves.
Lightning scorches
skies with hot zigzags.
Will it ever rain, when
will cicadas be silent?
Memories of a white room
burning pains…shunts, stains.
A bottle bursts filling the
sidewalk with rancid beer.
Throat of bird
swollen, screaming.
Rendezvous
That was the name of a paint
can from J&M Hardware.
With sweat lingering on her
face, she colored her room.
Tinted now like insides of
ripe plums, like perfect grapes.
When the sizzling lemon sun
dropped from heaven...night
became moist and black.
Her fan whirled thick air
stained with cigarettes
coffee, turpentine, white wine.
She sank into her wicker couch
as fog horns trail the horizon.
Locusts screech relentlessly for water
always wanting more more more water.
Closing her eyes, remembering him
now tasting the feast of his smile.
Summer Solstice
Trees outline the
horizon in green lace.
Beneath boughs float
galaxies of blue bugs.
Crimson clouds smudge
a sapphire sky.
Listen to swish of
branches as cicada
swell and swarm.
Hiding under shadows,
beating their wings,
hissing their mating calls.
Evening is coming…
the dawn of nighttime.
We are suspended now
between light and dark.
Clouds rushing over heaven.
Sun drops from sky.
The air is fragrant with
sweet blooming jasmine.
Southern winds sweep
across the hemisphere
brightening star after star
awakening this night.
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