Maxigumee

if colors were smells

you’d inhale that green

almost medicinal green.

smell of spring passing

fermenting in heat

as summer comes dripping down.

it would almost be pleasant

if not for the sweat

sticking between you and your clothes.

inside you spend your days

sleeping and drifting and eating

face pale from fake light.

stepping outside you’d

want to quit that life just

to walk like now forever.

to feel aged old summer

creaking his arm around

the corner and breathing

life into the world into your skull

into your eyes into your lungs

into your feet and your legs

you’ll make great plans

and ponder on them but always

put them ‘till later

do that tomorrow you’ll

do that tomorrow but for now

for now just walk.