summer here and dying

you sit in this apartment

a part from me

sitting posed and parallel,

lying ahead

and before

we listen to tracy chapman to get

in the mood

and here we are

and here is our reason

the window is open

and hoping it won't change

and by this

i mean the odd look you just gave me

i just mean that i hope it's hot forever

no ulterior motive here, or just one

that i can see you standing

breaking the fan in hand

the electricity crawls through your veins

and the sweat

makes you a good conductor

you sway to the words

and i give you one reason

diet coke is so attractive on you

as you stand there in defeat

white shirt stained and in a mood

unsensored

inebriated

you are mad

that damn fan just won’t work

you sit down, plastic and abused

metal pieces in your hand

you want some help?

no way to ask, hanging out the window and

praying for some snow,

the fire ladder

hot and firm, you crawl out

on the chance of a breeze

unsafe, a health hazard,

you can see the cars moving below you

air conditioning seems so foreign

and the shade is just enough

but hanging out the window

is too far away

and you’re looking in the

wrong place

for those reasons

leather suits me

cool and trusting, i sink in

and imagine i am just a cloud

or a cube, floating forever

i can only see your pliant back

squinting into the harsh sun

so perilously clean with sweat

i want to cool you down

shower you in fortune

of snow, i lie here instead,

maybe you’ll get the hint

and tracy’s still playing,

she’s playing up a storm

but the wrong time

the wrong kind

my body’s too wet,

but it’s better than

not, the reasons

are sticking to me

saliva and hot

my hair is sticking to my neck, and

i reach to pull it away

and my shirt rides up

i can feel the breeze now

the exposed skin a parade of

loosely coagulating droplets

i feel made of wax

and the water

just can’t sink in

and these reason sit on the surface

oil and water,

i wonder if you’ll ever get the hint

i can tell when you see me

you suck in a breath

your shirt pulls tight against

your chest

and i almost missed it over

the saxophone, tracy’s busy now

your voice is soft and pearly

like condensation on your can

of diet pepsi

i imagine that night by the pool

and the discussion of tide

and time is running hot and short

so let’s get to the climax

we discuss philosophy

up and down

until there’s nothing left

we discuss literature

up and down

until there’s nothing left

we discuss the universe

up and down

until there’s nothing left