An Eclogue: Water Shots

The concrete sizzled     sunshot
sand littered its path blown from the beach
in waved ripples leading to the lake-
peeling off layers of hoodie and Jordan’s,
tiny granules
locked into
the cracked heel
of her sockless foot.
The memo shut off water-
city school kids drown
in pools or beaches,       in puddles collected
on the streets of embattled gutters
or an open fire hydrant.

she followed conspirators to a fountain
built in the renovation of the old beach house
on the south side           usually left out.
Let me do this      away from the corner on the block -
bullets popping me to get someone else -
I need to cool off from this heat - real talk.

Sliding sideways through the circled rifles of water,
she giggled joyously in folly
fearlessly.     her foot on a fountain,
to the delightful screams of others-
she moved,
it shot her.


All we had
were pints
at the bar,
not enough
to hang
a hat on;

the din-
sitting close
to hear,
not connect.

But his skin,
covers me
at night
like snow sans
paw prints;

the quiet,
to interlopers,
lullabies a
good night.