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Jul 2010
cannonball bodies
in stagnant ponds
tossed-out towels
under browning legs
fluttered words
and humid spit-kisses
mean that for now
our stray-mutt mouths are fed

discarded burnt butts
and whisper-splash bottles
angry coffee caked on tires
from nights of broken speedometers
and a.m. dinners
frustrated waitresses
and chuckling short-order chefs
shadow the backs of polaroids

august breaks in,
with cars on lawns and
weeks with relatives.
the sun sets early
and the moon predictably dims.
our blood hardens,
and we all stop simply flowing.

june is born
and our arteries melt again
watch hands are ripped off
pagers recycled
clouds make critters
and our coughs make clouds

lazy insects and
sweat sit on eyebrows above wayfarers,
reflecting summer’s praying,
under black glass, youth decaying
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