Tara Blaine: the theory of summer

Spring '08 TOC

in the red days of cola
we unlaced, waited out
melting Texaco
popsicle walks backbeat
bangs to towtruck drivers’
barns in the month of moths
un-tasted olives champagne
kissing
                                           these
mariachi doldrums
of a gathering mouth

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Not Enough Night
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