it’s hot outside but i’m chilling

Photo by on

sometimes a piercing cup of black
coffee is delivered in ceramics patterned with red and blue hydrangeas,
colors mulling about the mind,
flowers on the cup
are sweet enough
to protect against the bitterness
outside the window,

a dog barks at shadows, moths crowd the lights,

and all along the lot

men waft through the grass like lizards
in tonged breath — sliding between cars and alleys
licking about for the source of Summer’s bones

the men shift away the top layer
like the film fastened above a coffee cup,
water bakes away leaving only the fat
until it burns too,

under the Floridian

sun.