Poems for the Weekend
Sometimes the heat lasts
too long.
A blister, the skin shining and stretched so thin,
pops.
Its insides oozing out, grateful and released and
so messy.
It’s easy to lose your mind in those moments,
to let the heat take over, the popping break you, the mess be
too much.
I look at the sky, so dark now after a long day
of blistering heat
And unexpected fissures of lightning leap
across the wide dark, from somewhere unknown.
They are cracking up the sky,
breaking up the world.
Doesn’t all light come just so to those
hot and messed up places?