Monday, September 26, 2011

neutral grounds

Summer breath
in the mouth of fall
sticks to my skin
makes it slick
runs in streams
down my hairy arms

i swat it away
i blow on myself
hoping to

the air refuses to move
just stares at me
as i push out my cigarette
and finish my bread
i lean forward in my chair
and take a good long look
into the atmosphere
expecting it to say something
or apologize

it just lazily hangs there
like a vagabond against a light post
asking "qoui"?

how i loath this false season
the interstice of days between
hot and cold
and light and dark
give me the dark days
they're easier to
hide in.

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