Far away train drones
curved and elastic,
stretched with the freight of summer heat.
Locusts pop out of the chaff,
exuberant clowns sawing their legs,
bent on mischief.
What I want more than anything is to
wrap myself all around his hips,
making a magic insect,
denim limbs humming the air to a shimmer.
His body rolls away,
crushed field stubble
a new hollow between us.
The train-rumbled earth pulses
up to meet the sky’s dark echo.
We’ll lie back and wait,
recoiling at the first fat drops,
little bombs smoking us out into the electric air.
