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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Beating Heart, Dancing Feet  

  Summer 


I like summer because it is hot.
Boys drive around, bare-chested

and browned, in little trucks
while the girls pretend they don't

foresee the future.  It's a great time
to get drunk and dance to music

or sit by the quiet lake at dusk—
spirits knocking at your skull—

and marvel at the lithe strength
and beauty of our children.

It is the only fair thing: to let them
stand about, idly, on vacation.



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