3:00 Hot

It feels like a long, slow melt.
That just so
hot, late, early, bright, dusty, hazy
transition from soaps to cartoons,
pizza rolls and freezer rummaging experimentation,
in-and-out-so-just-pick-one-already!
Tired, burned from the pool and
you can't make me leave!
This just before
the bank closes,
but the good bands are finally almost up,
and I am fried, crispy-red, baked,
and timeless.

People Watching

Each with a story and never the same,
sitting and watching and playing my game.
Familiar words mouthed or a furrowed brow.
A touch on an arm, quaking in a crowd.
A tiny nuance is a flashing sign,
And a plot slowly builds all in my mind.
Like seeing a band far across the room,
I hear no lyrics, but I know the tune.

Fools in Solidarity

Anticipation is that annoying kid down the street
from that other family or place
and whatever that means.
The glaring, uncomfortable,
itchy, twitchy, soul-scratching,
not really bad,
just permanent thing
at the door.
So you let him in to your party because
what choice do you really have?
You don't want to be that person.
Closed-minded snob, so.
There he is!
At your party, in your house making an ass of you in front of
everyone.
Because, what choice do they have but to watch?
"Don't go in the basement - you fool!"
Indeed, not for comic relief or the kind of perspective
nightmare you imagine.  For guidance,
or whatever.
We all know that annoying kid.