The Spinning Turning Of The Summer Earth

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The Spinning Turning Of The Summer Earth

The spinning turning of the summer earth
has stretched and wound the air
into a tight blue band around
its swollen girth
Dizzy and relentless the suffocated streets
wind on and toil
and soils gasp their quick and tiny breath
Parched dry tongues scrape over reptile lips
and every word we speak
steams and crackles in the heat
Lizard still
we perch upon the stones
merging carved and curled
this rough dry heat unfurls
pervades the flash
marrow that once waxed now wanes the bones
High upon in the sky
the one unblinking eye pours down
its slippery butter yellow drops
melting oily fire on our backs
Fingers without touch
feel for relief
And every move we make
strains as if about to break
something has to give

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