I have no stamina for
lyric let's catalogue
what we have. In the book
a man is lying in bed
drifting in & out of sleep,
listening to a radio station,
voices & dreams.

It is hot here and
it is hot there.

A fly drones above
my open legs; the fly
remembers with me fleshy
fullness between my legs
and above, all the weight
crushing my breasts
back into me. I am a
boy now.

I think these things, remember
them, heave hot & sink, where
drowsy, voluptuous feelings
are cut short by the format.

I have no stamina for
lyric the fly has
settled somewhere. I
heard a dog growling
outside so I turned
on the porch light &
stood there folding socks.
The dog was next door but
sounded much closer.