trample
speed
aka
it only takes thirty seconds of memory before I start thinking about having sex with you
hurry
scurry flurry
indeed
the whistled past
grave-yarded
and shard-ed
my
life out of balance
I
am hanging gardens
in
the crows’ nests
in
way laid stations
partitioning
the water
in
the rain
not
much needs
explaining
when the Sun
finally
goes down
on
the horizon
in
the quick-silvered
slivered
tongue shadow
of
every conversation
there
is a sway
to
this day
as
the evaporative cool
of
the near evening
unwraps
the clenched
wet
clay of too hot
too
electronic
too
much to say
about
the weather
whether
a splashed
fool
in a pool
with
smiled drool
or
a sweat building
idle
in traffic
the
groceries are sweating too
and
all I want is for you
to
pour ice all over me
slow
grace me
with
the shade of infinity
in
a right red shimmer
with
the caught glow
of the last light of June
burning
ghost moans
in
the contrails high above
the
catch basin skies
wading
the salts of a
sensual
soft cotton humanity
and
all before
the
light turns green
you
should have seen
your
smile uprooting trees
EJR
©
Wonderful
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