gold hammers and whitewalls

in the pale of
a new Spring,
old men
in sighing
baseball caps
eat hotdogs
in a parking lot
behind the firehall.

steam from
grilled meat.

steam from

the heart is
a volunteer,
it leaps
like flame
from lash
and tongue.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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