The kind of neighborhood
where you can hear someone  
crack a beer
across the street
Behind, in wide open yards
fireworks and laughter light the sky
fireflies take to the under-story
Meanwhile allergy eyes
have turned the stars
to flying saucers

Crickets celebrate
getting lucky
and I am jealous as hell
At 95 degrees
the air is thick
with mosquitos, those little devils
Have found an ear
for their only-known musical composition

“Aggravation in Monotone”