june bugs hopping into beer cans,
the old park gates clanging open,
and a small white terrier,
outrunning it’s owner.

crooked ex boyfriends stalk grasses,
someones playing backstreet again,
and you’re tanning turns to burns,
so you flip over.

disconnected neighbours make eyes,
sharing jabs about Honest Ed’s,
and my friend falls asleep,
wearing her bra inside out.