after Langston Hughes
June air heat heavy, getting pissed by the
piscine (bliss), hashish drifts on breeze, arms calm,
held salmon-like by side / LEAP \ into cool
blue… Dent head. Clock colour draining from face
as mine spills, faucet-gushes, floods pool. Of
course it hurts. Too punch-drunk to drive to the
hospital, panic sets like frost, river
of red won’t stop. Thank god for doctor, asked
as neighbour / chauffeur, tasked with sewing me
together. Hop in soft top, roof down, for
brisk twisting drive. At the village there’s a
fête. Confetti spirals down like a kiss.
Thomas Dylan Bolger 