August Rain

It rains in the afternoon in August
In the mountains
Because that is what it does

Simple.

A line follow to an end point
Waves caress a shore
Rivers empty into the ocean
Leaves fall
Planets circle
Plants grow

I tap off ashes from my cigarette on the porch rail
They trickle to the wet grass: glistening
Sun scatters glassy on the screen behind the window

She doesn't think about you
I don't think about you

People slam screen doors
It's August
The thermometer reads ninety-four.

To Lie Upon a Rock

To lie upon a rock
Stomach up
Facing the sun
In summer time temperatures
That somehow invaded February

To lie upon a rock
And feel the cold water lick your toes
And caress the bottoms of hot feet

To lie upon a rock
And stare at the clouds
Balls of white fur
Moving in time to some other orchestral conductor

To lie upon the rock
To listen
To notate
To meditate
To swoon
To sleep
To sigh
To understand

Entwining your scalding skin
And sunglass-ed face
In new warm luscious coolness
And hard smooth/rough embrace

To lie upon a rock
And linger
Living
Once upon a time
Today.

The State of My Body in Summer

The State of My Body in Summer is tan
It is wide
It is berthed and cool and sweat beaded and wet
And dry
Like terrycloth.

The State of My Body in Summer is
filled with oceans
And music
And cars windows rolled down
And stretch marks bared proud like I don't care now
And never cared.

The State of My Body in Summer is
adorned
With friendship anklets that look tattered and worn
And rings
And tan lines
Milk white on a canvas of brown
I've done something
I've been somewhere.

The State of My Body in Summer is
Filled with berries
And ice cream
And worry about rolls of fat
And simultaneous screaming sultry desires to strip down
And dive in
And fill you up
With me
And tales of cold winters that force us to snuggle close around an orange fire.

The State of My Body in Summer
I feel incircled
Enclosed
Encapsulated
Elated
Fanned
Fanned out
Flamed
Flaming
Endorsed
Adrenalined
Aiming up
Upward
And tarnished but brand new like a screaming baby and a crone in a cocoon.

The State of My Body.
In Summer.
Is Warm.