4th of July
the honeyscukle scorches.
I collapse into the pool of your
hairy belly &
the crab-skin of your sun-split
forearms & the
seashells crinkle benath us
like glittery ghosts &
the sand is grey with
firework dust & the ocean
sparkles and swallows the
pasty-ankles of well-fed children
and the women wear
gushing beach bags and
shiny mosquito eyes
and the sharks circle slowly,
wait for the blush of blood in salt,
and the flag hangs like a flat scar
against the rosehips and
you and I trace our kid curses
in the pulp of muscles of seaweed
and the big sad aches on,
and the camps grow crowded
and the oil war whistles
and the sky suddenly explodes.
I collapse into the pool of your
hairy belly &
the crab-skin of your sun-split
forearms & the
seashells crinkle benath us
like glittery ghosts &
the sand is grey with
firework dust & the ocean
sparkles and swallows the
pasty-ankles of well-fed children
and the women wear
gushing beach bags and
shiny mosquito eyes
and the sharks circle slowly,
wait for the blush of blood in salt,
and the flag hangs like a flat scar
against the rosehips and
you and I trace our kid curses
in the pulp of muscles of seaweed
and the big sad aches on,
and the camps grow crowded
and the oil war whistles
and the sky suddenly explodes.