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  June always       simmers

     like hallways on family holidays.          Indoor,        underground               pools.

         Dark swimsuits on dark hairy    fathers.         


Small  motels in    Clearwater Florida where there’s

    little bits of plastic even in the rain.    

   Like any man                half hoping  will    abuse

                     me in the stairwell.

 Where I smell of coconut and  damp,    towel

         under the door  foul leak at your  window

unit.      A dirtied  square of  carpet  everyone is trying not to look at

      and the fireworks going off a few miles over.


Sometimes back then I could feel a shift in   the wind a snake  underfoot,          roach in   my hand       and      your tongue at   whatever    needs   


greasy metaphor for something begging to burn.


    Like ignition, baby! Like we’re finally

starting  something    here  beneath the    bleachers of a high school         film set on fire


    June thunderstorms  on    a Mardi Gras        full           of bruises anyway.  A parade of drowning rats claw   scabby   bellies a daisy chain of     empty beer cans falling like loose teeth wet concrete cobblestone    horse shit    and a hundred little  uppercuts.   the leaves     a sour   ache in the   lower back.  too many boyfriends with  too many boyfriends too often kicks to  the   kneecap  and four         fingers  on a numb.  thigh  bruising your jaw with a bottle of beer   before    i break it im biking though a foot of floodwater with a mouth full of blood and something dead right behind me.


its june   in   tampa  its  seaworld a teen birthday   another  faggot revelation  hiding behind resort pool waterfall tempered glass hot steam cold skin pressed against it and pimpling youre seventeen youre  so horny for distortion for being vaguely imperceptible a rushof amyl  and  chlorine burning holes in your brain a loosecigarette on the balcony and your first married man wet holding you how you will never be that naked again in his room of wall to wall aquariums how you can even now only touchingyourself under rippling light. How some tanks were empty and others full of eggs.