looks like grass from here

the radio plays an oldie, a sweat and firework summer
hydrocodone behind the beer shack, kissing barefoot
leaving tracks like the veins of an addict, wallowed in the grass
i hear only water, feel only ground, dissolve like sand
in the swirling pit of this giant basin, i'm heavy.
I'm heavy like depression, weightless like a lie,
sharp as the corners of a word never removed
from a circular conversation, record-like, jazz
without the sax, swoons without the heat,
an empty note, like a three dollar bottle of wine.
yeah, heavy heavy. loose in arkansas,
down by the crooked crag shoreline.
awful entries, notebook stilettos,
city bimbo lipstick drags all teethmarks and smallpox
left her name on the worn out leather.