And the

memory
of melting
Zodiac
popsicles,


running down
your sweet
lips. and
the yearning
for cool

pinhead

rain kissing

my back
on hot
summer
solace
days,


and the

belly aching

of annoying
friends like
harbor flies
bussing around
my head.,


you know the
really big
ones.


and in

the kitchen

the dishes
slumber deep
in their
porcelain
bed,


and barnacle
pieces of
food cling
to their
smooth

sun dial edges,


and lazy
dish *****
run up

and down

left and

right in my
imagination
across their
face.


the karma
of *****
dishes

and a
summer
deluge of

missing you


that just
won't
stop.