we’re on Island Time out here, he said white flax button-up loose and starting to stick in the thunder the girls are standing around in their black shorts and Nikes, blond braids and ponytails start to fizz they have been working since 3 the outside seating is dripping and Tommy blows a 5-minute-break puff of smoke before outing the cig in the plastic albatross by the door the place looks cleared out, but you can’t see the inside, how long now? supply truck rolls in, gutted carcass rolls out and the girls are still standing, like they’re teaching the world what confidence means young fresh faces like under-ripe fruit softening drizzle now, they can feel the slow dull fade a gentle end until thunder cracks and the sound of breaking glass ✱✱✱
|
Archives
March 2020
Categories
All
|