Backward in the Abstract of Summer
It wasn’t quite all the way, but it was close to perfectly matched.
Marble next to marble on the red hall rug.
I did my level best to keep calm deep in the back of my throat.
Every sentence is improved by my new naked peaceful touch.
I can’t really relax with strangers,but I’ve found a way to move with marbles.
Has it gotten too surreal for my shaky bones to respond properly?
It is all crunch all the time for my summer chess class at noon.
I’ve started harvesting a special bitterness on the back forty.
It is the land where critters do their best digging at night,
the land that generations have called promising.
Love has left the blankets with a rub of perfume against my nervous chin.
Washing behind my ears has pushed me to the limits of bliss.
I couldn’t help listening to the rotation of jeopardy on the block.
No summer love was quite safe until it was bolted inside my head.
There were screams curling the traffic off its slant.
I asked for my bike to be painted cherry red in order to tease the girl nextdoor.
Dad couldn’t be bothered, mom saw it as a waste of time.
My dreams burst into a blaze of twisted summer contempt
and the cute girl nextdoor was packed off to Wisconsin by her derelict father.
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