332 month heatwave

there's a kind of water
that shapes our   skin
despite salinity, nitrites or radioactivity.
it's a banjo solo dripping
off the edge of your nose,
a harmony remembered from
the heart of a vacancy sign.
let us  drink.

i took an old friend a liter
to share over biscuits in cab
on the way to the dark.
he was moving from one heartache
to the next and i was coming
home from west palm beach.
where afternoon rain is a tiger
and we are the rats in her paws.

on the left coast of a joke state
  the thermometer climbs every day
i croak  heard it through the grapevine with my ipod
undermybreath sing a saturday nite club hookup anthem
gettin hot in here.
 turn on a fan someone
yesterday it was
 cold but the
 moon's face
























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what if i really am crazy? he worries

join the crowd baby, she giggles. he likes her to giggle. she likes to giggle. laugh  lines are better than frown lines. life has gotten heavier than she ever believed it could, if she could remember back to when it was a feather pillow she snuggled into. no, no back before that, beyond conscious memory.  a breast to cleave .



i dunno, she says. can we work with that?
are you smarter than the disease?
do you want a  life of pumpkin pie?

we are three quartters of the way into the boil
steam rises. we learn to cope. keep the floodgate open
put a couple of sandhill cranes sculptures in the reflecting pools.
build some walls. retreat and build again.
when you can see her, she can see you.
she wants to  turn up the heat  now. go ahead
she says, this ended sixteen years ago.
i hope the post gen knows what to do with
 the  flutes and the windmills

nodding heads
grey, weary, ready for a given breach.
le juenes en la kitchen spittin dro talk
everyone happy cuz it just be that way/


if the crop circles mean anything
we should know by the winter
which could be our last
above water
or
something
 iin the fourth dimension.
like,
what does that even mean?
















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