Today's poem is by Matthew Guenette

Dog Days

It was so hot
you'd singe your fingertips
opening a car door.

That's nothing compared
to how we did each other.
The mattress shoved

to the center of the sublet.
Nothing hidden.
Cicadas buzzing so loudly

they sawed through
our thoughts.
It was a defining moment

that was the problem.
How a thing defined
resists its meanings.

When there was nothing left
but words to eat
it was because we'd blown

a week's check at the bar.
One of our fantasies
had been to wreck the silver

spinning rims on the asshole
landlord's truck.
For fun we dragged

a couch to the curb
& watched the lightning lose
itself like spare change.

Copyright © 2011 Matthew Guenette All rights reserved
from New Orleans Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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