DOG DAYS.

Geese and cicadas

are the sounds of summer.

Chlorine and sulfur

mating with the air,

birthing the perfect mix

of hope and despair.

Benadryl at 1pm,

to go with that
freshly mown grass.

Salty, tacky, sticky, sweat.

Thicc yam skin, burning

by the end of the day.

Got me jonesing for another

ice cream cone, melting

over my fingers.

Discomfort, disgust, frustration,

shame melting right along with it.

Wishing upon a dusky star

for one thing, but

doing another.

Wishing it was time

to go back to school.

That fresh start feeling.

Another chance

to get it right,

before the heat comes back around,

and shines a light upon

all the lumps, and bumps,

and slumps, you still have,

another year later.

Next time, we say.

Tomorrow.

But, never today.