Last Summer’s Grecian Coverup

by: Jerimee Bloemeke

“You would have really liked it,
What happened to us last night.”

Dangling feet shaking to hatred
They see the see thru pane
Purchased all around them
In deliberate quarters; track lit, envision
Who is watching who cannot be seen; live
Poor to talk about it in stinging drafts.
Particles of graphite in the air their eyes began to watch
A four-hour long yesterday.

They ran yesterday never seen. A black shelf leans.
Nothing hangs from looks like ceiling strings
The usage of landscaping in a living room
And does not say words or anything to them
And is the only pleasure the past two days
Their debit was down.
The phone checks.

They were not there, no one was
At Dodge getting dark, the Hilltop pool, beginning
To storm a five star number like always reflecting
Off windows across the street because the sunset
Last week…the sun off a shattered second floor window.
A musician, piling rolls of sorority carpet onto the roof of
An Escort station wagon, paid one dollar for help, six bucks
In a field at sunset yesterday. A cornfield video shoot; “easy dreams”
Knew dreams to ruin it back to Dodge, the porch, the
Computer, the organ, smashed bookshelf on the deck
& five or so burned in the fire pit.

Smoke slid through crevices.
An aeronautics appeared. The note:
Thank you for [the] every thing

Not a given “the everything” to someone else in the way
Is the enormous bliss of the American death.
The mattress on another porch the saving of caps
On the microwave. The diagnostics only mean what they have meant
For so long. Against a brick wall in a parking lot, drunk
On pills, three cigarettes behind one ear, pulling leaves
Off bushes, picking flowers out of people’s beds (bouquet fists)
And chipping church pew finish to pick a thorn out of a thumb
With scratched legs, the boom man records fake conversations too far away.