This Summer
by Al Rempel


inside out
thunder rolls
clouds over
a hazy pool
you want to slip into
to think
make copper-pipe noises
the walls
elbows and legs
calls them
with the water
and knocks
of electrified air
all wet and dripping
of feathers

every afternoon
the cataract sky
and leaves
like a warm bath
no need
the ravens taken to the trees
somewhere behind
as if the entire works
the plumber
spilling out
gurgles and glooks
the ripple
the hollow boom
onto a black shock

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