#37

as my osseous

   h e a r t 

  slowly sinks

to oblivion 

            seventy nuns

take my dreams

and hoard them

letting them

rot and smell 

         as June Bugs

create a Hell

an inlet 

for all North American

Bugs-

      a pail full of tears

i've been carrying around

for fucking years-

  it's time to 

   let summer soak and 

mosquitoes m o a n

  as i gaze 

three alligator 

       babies appear

    "good day 

                  sir"