June

The little black dress of wines

swam down the throat with hues of acidity.

Fresh and crisp, the rhubarb and rose petal poison

accentuated the juices emanating from its medium-rare partner.

Red, jagged claws twisted and pulled,

bury the newspaper shielded table.

Cuts on the hand are detected by the red, herbaceous seasoning

that these crustaceans now swim in.

Finely, shaved ice coated with a bizarre ultramarine syrup permeate cracking styrofoam cups.

Crowded stained picnic benches

surrounded by childish smiles.

Late afternoon scorching heat,

drowning from thunderous rain.

Droplets that drench thoroughly dwindle with

the ascendance of a saffron sky.