Summer Stupor
milk curdles up my coffee
as sticky macaroni covered
with fake cheese is pushed
into the microwave
recyclables sit next to a putrid
bag of dumpster garbage
while loads of laundry wait
checking the fridge to
gauge how many days
I can avoid my hot box car
and a trip to Shopping Rite
many shopping bags hang
on the doorknob piles of bills
junk mail lists notes gathering
dust on my kitchen table
languid wishes memories of
finer times now reaching
to mute another newscast
turning off another day
Crazy Hot Summer
During this summer, bales of hay explode
crops scorch, livestock are slaughtered early.
We shuffle though grocery stores. Limp
lettuce, mushy tomatoes languish on counters.
Prices rise inexorably while driving to
gas stations where fumes fill our nostrils.
My throat is dry and coated with metallic taste.
I guzzle a bottle of ice tea, saccharine sweet.
Our town park floods with children spilling over
brown grass, their shouts cutting the airs.
Laundry comes out piping hot from
the dryer, zippers burning my fingers.
Clumps of wrinkled clothes wobble on chairs.
Unopened mail and dust cover my table.
A nylon nightgown sticks to my skin as
fans push warm air brushing my face.
The shrill of cicadas drown the night.
I wait now to melt into dark oblivion.
No comments:
Post a Comment