This Summer.

Summer seethes on my skin
Creeps inside the soaked dark blue-almost-black t-shirt I wear
Runs down my back and my knees and my brow
Shuffles around me and rests on the person beside me
From the mingled putrid smells and sticky arms and the broken air conditioner
Burning through the seat cover of my bike I unwittingly parked out for five minutes
Stares through the pool of what could have once been an ice cream.

In my room
With its heaviness hung in abundance
like the many winter coats on the wall.


As one can probably tell, Summers… Not a big fan.
Anyways I’ve been reading AND obsessing over the poems of William Carlos Williams quite recently and though I’ve never written poems like these I really wanted to give it a try because I love the imagery and the simplicity of his poems. Is there anyone out there who loves summer? 


9 thoughts on “This Summer.

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  1. I would love to love summer as I used to when I was a 10th grade teenπŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ’–, but now it’s irritating and quite busy setting the shivers like the sem exams across the border πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ™ˆπŸ™ˆ


  2. I love the idea of summer, but summers in the west of Ireland are too unpredictable, always kind of warm, but with too much cloud and rain. Ah but when it’s sunny, it’s fabulous!


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