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
