hot summer play


bikini people
run and walk
on summer sand
where warnings
are ignored and
space aliens
are utterly false

heat is the
orange sun
and the
tan of
my skin
is chocolate

whistles here
whistles there
we hear the
cheer of young
and old

louder smiles
cans of coke
of pepsi
and umbrellas
on pinya juice
float like boats




About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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