Summer In Stevens Point

On college ave in summer
where the first floor of the house is an oven
where my skin becomes soft with sweat
my heat hangs in the air like smoke; there is no breeze
and my smell is that of capricorn incense

brown shag carpet is where i sit, between
paneled walls and fluorescent light bulbs
opaque water is what i drink from the chateau d'eau
beautiful girls plays in my room, the amplifier cooking my books

a lion yawns, a motorcycle thumps and night-time
shower sun glasses sit on the other half of my room
open drawers and locked doors, chords and packs
of papers laying on the floor

an incubator, a sauna, a bathhouse, geo thermal caves
my window is cracked, and my roof is a bed.32 leaves
made in france are scattered around and sound like autumn
when i pick them up

10: 10 or 22:10 and my speakers vibrate pregnantly
while the dark drags its feet loudly outside of my eye sight
the light shakes brightly. While sitting on my couch cross
legged, my feet fell asleep, and so did I.

by Maxwell Ames

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