the proliferation
of gray
has given way
to a prison
in blinding light
the clenched fists
of summer begin
to pummel the land
wringing every drop
of precious precipitation
from the dessicated earth

i have lost track
of the first concussive
cluster into this
seemingly surreal
spiral of rebounding
an antagonistic agony
engrained in each
semimobile moment
in a prismatic halo
of scattershot epiphanies
the persistency in
pain prolonged by
pedantic protestations
peeling back the flesh
in saline showers

there is a sublime
hopelessness in
suffering alone
a desperate sense
of incessant need
vivisected by a bipolar
scalpel in the hands of
an amateur surgeon
searching for anything
in the unforgiving glare
of summer’s golden disdain