(no subject)
Nag champa
Nag champa residue
A lost, black ring of once burning oil
The shadows
Turned from spring to summer
Dirty feet skimming on the surface
Of fresh white paint
Asbury sounds:
Sirens
Street clamor
And light flickers of silence
The windows were open
Next to the bed where
We slept nude through hott nights,
Neighbors fighting
Spying between vertical blinds
Clothes thrown off the porch
Before the cops came
The lost children, belonging to the ghetto
Threw glass bottles into the street
And got off on other’s misery
The Ice cream truck making midnight sales
Never seemed to miss it’s beat
Driving the sea shore circuit
Her thick women scent of marijuana and talcum
The sweet sweat in her deep skin folds
Touching our clammy skin together
Under the rotary fan, stirring the hot
Torching the air
The heat we could not see
Until it burnt out
Nag champa residue
A lost, black ring of once burning oil
The shadows
Turned from spring to summer
Dirty feet skimming on the surface
Of fresh white paint
Asbury sounds:
Sirens
Street clamor
And light flickers of silence
The windows were open
Next to the bed where
We slept nude through hott nights,
Neighbors fighting
Spying between vertical blinds
Clothes thrown off the porch
Before the cops came
The lost children, belonging to the ghetto
Threw glass bottles into the street
And got off on other’s misery
The Ice cream truck making midnight sales
Never seemed to miss it’s beat
Driving the sea shore circuit
Her thick women scent of marijuana and talcum
The sweet sweat in her deep skin folds
Touching our clammy skin together
Under the rotary fan, stirring the hot
Torching the air
The heat we could not see
Until it burnt out