she used to know more/than just five seven five lines/but they ate her brain

the end of July
one less summer day right here
watching the clouds swim

remember summer
full of diving boards and boys
and my bloody nose

buckle shoes and skirts
down at the bowling alley
sipping orange crush

electronic fan
throws numbered pages across
the old leather chair

soft under my shoe
small snail shells and hermit crabs
don't you feel guilty?

i wrote these while on vacation. more are here. 
¶ 3:10 PM |