Wednesday, August 3, 2022

August in America 2022

 
 

 
 
 
 
August in America 2022
 
 
August is
a box of eyes
closed
pretending there is no
stab of light
a beach of scalded feet
of knees scraped raw on underwater sand
bleeding a string of dead flowers
and too many ants.

May sang once I remember
November wailed but August
holds a hot hand
over summer's mouth stifling sweat-damp
nights of thirst with silent fever 
like a rash
of rumors
 hallucinations of
drowning rain.

No one wants August
to do anything but leave
even if it means red winter
but it stays
only peeling like old paint
spreading like the sour smell
of smoke
in a burned house
backbuilt from blood and sickness

where even the ants
die by fire.
 
 

August 2022
 
 





 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
posted for dVerse Poets Poetics:
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images: The Enchanted Beach, 1950 © Salvador Dali   Fair Use
Ants © Dunja Zubak via satchiart.com   All Rights Reserved   Fair Use

12 comments:

  1. Not a fan of August either. This is searing, in all senses of the word. You haven't lost your touch.

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  2. This is incredibly palpable, Hedge! How I feel this part; "but August holds a hot hand over summer's mouth stifling sweat-damp nights of thirst with silent fever like a rash of rumors
    hallucinations of drowning rain." Thank you so much for adding your voice to the prompt ❤❤

    ReplyDelete
  3. "but August
    holds a hot hand
    over summer's mouth stifling sweat-damp
    nights of thirst with silent fever
    like a rash
    of rumors
    hallucinations of
    drowning rain."
    Joy, I don't think anyone could have said it better!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Just. So. Good. You and Shay are in a class of your own. I'm glad I get to read you.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I love summer but August can be too much heat and sweat, mingling with rain and fire. You nailed it with: nights of thirst with silent fever
    like a rash
    of rumors
    hallucinations of
    drowning rain.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thanks, everyone, for taking the time to read and share your thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  7. whew. August stares at us through lidless and thus unblinking eyes, here. August is the Reaper's favorite month - fires in California, hurricanes in the Gulf, tornadoes through the prairies.

    I agree with Sherry... ~

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  8. Maybe August has replaced April as our cruellest month -- seems like everyone young dies in April, but we who have survived must endure August, where all of the vernal tropes have palsied and withered. Specially so in America '22 (though most of the northern hemisphere follows suit). The first stanza is about as pungent a critique of Anthropocene indifference as it gets. Calibrating the magnitude of heat is difficult after all the mercury's gone bust, but this gets there. Well done.

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  9. you are not lying, i hate august, even in the high country it's too hot, too dry (and of course getting hotter but shh, you didn't hear that from me) i can hear the under-tone in this as well... i hear you

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  10. Ohhhhh you are such a joy to read (no pun intended), honestly. You make all darkness beautiful, anything, literally. You fell my inner aesthete every time. I love all of this without question. The personification is divine. This stanza especially rocked my world:

    "May sang once I remember
    November wailed but August
    holds a hot hand
    over summer's mouth stifling sweat-damp
    nights of thirst with silent fever
    like a rash
    of rumors
    hallucinations of
    drowning rain."

    <3

    ReplyDelete
  11. "November wailed but August
    holds a hot hand
    over summer's mouth stifling sweat-damp
    nights of thirst with silent fever "
    Brilliant poem ,particularly these lines. You have captured August, it's the month when we realise we've had enough of summer!

    ReplyDelete

"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats