it was fun for a minute but now it adds to my anxiety
summer in april and there's no time given to renewal
just an exhausted heat evaporating the street oils and ash
creating a new kind of doomed, wafting city stench. the smell reminds me of parts of nagoya, but more abused. pale weeds are the only thing green right now, and their rugged systems still do not take away the strength of the oils.
few things have been able to change from winter's hold- a cat that has been lost since last october hasn't been seen except in the missing signs, which hang up still.
eighty degrees sets a stage for this deception, unbrilliant heat against grey murk and dormant branches reveals the weaker parts in a statement/ unique consequences forming
bees are roused only to find hay, bulbs, and one-day old sprouts
no hints of nectar yet
easter bunnies quake of heat stroke in their felted nests
still in repose, it's too early to wake and find small gardens for babies
it sounds way bad, and i'm probably feeling this way because of a nervy hangover but i'm wondering for spring and fifty thousand gallons of water.