lightning

nights like lightning
flashing one to the next
a rage,
a haze of neons and fluorescents
throats raw, tongues caked
reason, tension,
disgarded like cigarette butts, nightclub flyers in gutters

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boys in the backyard,
in the lightning bug humidity of a long grass evening
cool and forgiving beneath your toes
beers warm and crickets chirp
and in the dim back porch light,
we watch the trees for slow change,
resting on damp wooden railings, chair arms
quiet in the night, shallow breathing in that still air