A whisper, a sigh
a car passed by as 

Hazy summer swelt 
turns to chill and smoke
on my couch, red-dusted
fingers pick at corn globs
and Suzanne is torn apart on screen. 

I wear a hoodie for clothes
and I forget I have to wash things
so the dishes get to marinate
in the long-and-longer dark
of blankets and hot-chocolate marshmallows.

Buses squeal and shiver as
they squeeze in while they settle
much like I often forget to do;
I huddle over engine seats
to soak in heat from dinosaurs.

They sky gets prouder with less rubes
around to block her Sun, so 
she goes stark, blank, blazing blue
and sinking-eating black – doing her best 
to show off between the two.

I think I’m getting kinda chilly.