summer

Summer

Day jobs along the sidewalk,

Scraping dirt, little green murders committed,

My hands look dark, I stare at asphalt,

Above the roar of metal and sunlight, I hear Beethoven.

Over by the lake, the pregnant mud water and smooth,

I slip down; “Here’s the mower…” the sand tastes different on my face,

“A break in two hours…” blue grey eyes, flies swarm over the dead fish,

Monsoons are addictive, “make sure all the weeds are gone…”

Within my legs pain makes families,

Mr. and MRS. Pain and a life of middle class luxury,

I walk into the sunset, only concrete scented and often ecstatic at the freedom,

Subjugation and dreaming, metal soot shovels and silken dragon fly wings.

Another day, I tell myself – the songs are in my head, and my arms are just slaves,

The two lives are in confused tension, which is the mirror and which the reflection?

Within the timeless hours, I find years of dreams, images of futures, possible tomorrows,

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow…”, but tomorrow is already gone.