Parker Logan

Forever Summer

Alyson Noël

               I don’t trust people who don’t like summer,
the hottest season of the year, and maybe
               it’s because I just want to take my clothes off
                              and rock the crop top I found at Goodwill
               and a five inch inseam bather, or hit the bar
wearing nothing but mesh, the warm air

               of Florida, Louisiana, New York, Nevada, the whole
northern hemisphere licking every inch
               of my skin with sweat sweat sweat making me
                              wet wet wet, and I love the beach, the Atlantic,
               a ride down the Ichetucknee river with a beer
and an edible kicking me square in the ass

               the fireworks in July popping off everywhere,
something I love to watch even if I don’t
               exactly enjoy celebrating the birth of the empire,
                              and yeah, I love kissing on New Years night--
               the booms filling my ears what I really like--
the lights, the colors, it’s just that the sun sets

               so early in winter and rises so late I can’t help
but long for the days when it’s past eight
               and there’s still a little bit of sky on my face,
                              the heat waves on the asphalt cooling to a simmer
               as we head in for dinner, which is like the summer
of meals, actually, long, hearty, and hot off the grill--

               oh, what I would give for a pulled pork sandwich
covered in coleslaw, a cold Coca-Cola, and tater
               tots underneath an air conditioner while the crickets
                              sing their joy at the death of winter, fear the rise
               of fall, and long for spring, one degree closer
to our buggy paradises and the wet, hot atmosphere