summer tennis . . .
he’s still wearing his socks
after taking them off
uptown street
the breeder’s dog walks with
a price tag unseen
summer tennis . . .
he’s still wearing his socks
after taking them off
uptown street
the breeder’s dog walks with
a price tag unseen
summer heat
voices in the hum
of the fan
babying
the new begonia
babying me
when it’s not
what you think —
prune juice
reach
of the garden hose —
my world
slowly moving through the park my libido
loneliness
at the end
of the text chain
You must be logged in to post a comment.