torn labels

i ,candle
in th sun.alizé drops in th sing of underpines.a-hum sociofade.scuff my workboots in th dirt.golden
retriever just ahead, smelling each
flower alongside th’abandoned road.lifting her leg here and there.yellow tongue in blue sky laps
th back of my neck.tire-track fossils.just after
noon.i felt hotter than ever.hours
away from th nearest town, mind ful of silence.someone logd here.no idea abt existence.beauty mys
burns.inter
connected am no shirt.th heavy calm of passion.fingers are islands, run through mandy’s hair.away to chase a bee.thousands of bees are in th forest.and me, i got coasts.wood wind
instrusaw.

you are a child, said th sun,             looking up,       fine hot dusty and small

.don’t be shy, hemlock thirsty.

later  ( in tara’s kitchen mixing long island ice teas; she works for th mof and wears a colourful dress.

# posted by hardyf : 23:48