And the
memory
of melting
Zodiac
popsicles,
running down
your sweet
lips. and
the yearning
for cool
pin head
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 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.