be august it'll be over --
by then, the tickle
settles in my throat.
I'm so ' appreciative
of the water
and of bellies.
I get bit. I get
frustrated w/ my work
work being an extension
of life, shit.
it is powerful/painful to
admit, even none w/
being dishonest in
writing.
Save yrself, bee.
By the lake. there
sits houses. empty,
Am I outside, there
a muggy summer night!
I see a light on.
I see movements.
I smell the earth
and the flight
paths of insects
around me.
I step forward and
get pricked.
But of course I don't
remain standing in the
middle of the
wood, w/ nothing to
drink and eat.
I want to go inside.
Turn off
the light.
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