Poetry

Summer Heat

words assault my ears

I push END

Anger draws a knife and cherry pie oozes onto the oven floor

Disappointment yells like he’s alone in a forest

Impatience awakens with a jolt

spilling red fruit onto my shoes

and onto yours too

a sticky, bloody mess

leaving embarrassing tracks

surrounding me like a guilty skirt

I cannot sweep it away

or hide it behind fancy manners

my fingertips absorb the stain

and gloss my cheeks

smeared like rotten crabapples on a hot sidewalk

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Herba Monstrum

time to wake the hibernating ogre

I tiptoe to his shed

open the shutters to reveal the spring sun,

hoping he’ll stir from this summer-induced coma

I jiggle him—gently

spiders run and webs are dismantled

he’s quiet

still,

hasn’t smelled the blooming feast

I speak tender prayers to his stale lungs

and prop open one lid to find an empty gut

I pour a noxious drink and wipe sleep from his eyes

Nothing.

I yell his name

            once,

no response

Again, with more vigor

nothing

third time, listening for a rumble,

deep intake of breath or sputter

            again…silence

I poke his side, check his pulse

and courageously squirt him with two bursts of “caffeine”

I return to call him out of slumber

once

            twice

                        and on three…

I hear

a sigh

sign of consciousness

he raises his voice

coughs out winter’s doldrums and

sneezes onto the tulips

he’s awake

hungry

energized