Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Heat and Dust

The grime settles
in between the bars
of my gritty teeth
I sigh at the road

Scraped knees
and errant bees
golden dust
clouds that must

ruin an evening race
or transform
into a football field
with sloppy teens

a soft romantic
I have been
with squashed lilies
in a naughty breeze

now a cynic
with arms so plump
bad breath
and grumpy roads

now a cynic
in arid grace
a sore cough
in dark bylanes

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