Heat

I'm getting old out here
heat lightning fish
far from the sea

no shooting stars
or lighthouse guides

and no seasalt
on my lips,

with the
night heat
and the whippoorwill
calling,

moaning
with the swaying limbs
and the cool night breeze,

with the limelights
and the lakelights
buzzing out
buzzing bugs,

and taking care of me,

my night heat companions,
much better than the daze
of the days,

it is like no one lives here
'cause they're all buzzed out
and this wasteland is mine,

with its pinkblack blanket
over the starless nightsky

and the cool stillness
in the air,

cool enough
to grow old
underneath

and be jarred
like
sardines
and
tunafish

and the cool heat,
cool enough
to die underneath

like ship captains
and seathieves,

who
die young

and do not age
like me

and are not landlocked
like me

far from the sea
and the big lights
of the coast

this is the place
to buzz out,

for my sealegs
to lie down

for the
slow waves
of the
nightheat

for the

buzz,


buzz,


buzz,


and the


stop