August

Has a way of stifling things.

Like coagulated Jello-air,

Like movement, suffocating in the family room,

Like noise,

Like you and me.

Smothered in heat and sweat,

It's easy to choke.

Stifled in August.

August

Has a way of souring things.

Like the dark corners of bodies,

Like crabapples, rotting above,

Like milk,

Like you and me.

Curdled and rancid, past expiration,

It's easy to loose that sweetness.

Soured in August.

August

Has a way of making things go flat.

Like faces, unmoving and unexcited,

Like unwashed, useless hair,

Like Coke,

Like you and me.

Dull and tasteless, evaporated,

It's easy to loose the fizz.

Gone flat in August.