forty days in the wilderness

these storms these storms that come clustering clustering magnet and ultraviolet they’re hard and botched sun-whipped and humming and green as choke wanting us to whine like our dogs giving devil pressure to our ear pockets all the while i’m smiling at the impound just like jesus would have my ears pocket this man’s peanut sucking the way he hosts my car keys under his knuckles and smiling smiley the good life the full belly the love bugs i leave and the door jingles or maybe my keys or i guess the storm in my ear something is definitely making a sound

Mary Adelle