deepundergroundpoetry.com

Augusts' porch

Mason jar full of lemonade;  
loaded like light was lying  
with junipers' bite, is set  
on the table to the right.  
 
Mid afternoon now  
been up since three.  
 
It started about a month ago  
waking up with the sun,  
then in the last ten days or so  
it has gotten earlier.  
 
The lamp from the living room  
is wired through the window, out  
to the porch. No bother returning  
it, there is a new drawing started  
and the sun punches in far too late  
when an artist remembers his name.  
 
A sense of getting closer; while wideness  
doubles down on dividing its' own cells,  
declares squatters rights on the porch  
of the old farmhouse.  
 
One of the last remaining  
cigarettes, is rolled to accompany a mason jar  
full of lemonade, that has the bottom of a Rubens'  
woman, singing baritone in the basement.
Written by lightbaron
Published | Edited 6th Aug 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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