Post-Barbeque Blues

NOW the daffodil is beheaded

    and floating in her vase;

MAY has sunk into our bones.

    tortilla chips &

        beer &

        burnt sausages

fight with strawberry ice-cream

    on red Solo cups.

a restlessness halfway between

    play & EXHAUSTION:

        our skin is hot, but

        now the air is cold.

the little girl will go home

    & refuse her dinner

        just as surely as WE

        are HOPELESS to do anything but

            crawl into the sheets sun-drunk /

            on soccer-sweat;

listen to tapes of Jack Kerouac

    spin tales of desolation angels

                subterranean blues

                jazz

                & wine.

Tags: bbq, indentation, poetry, summer