The Wettest Knot

He has a lot of triggers
So he has a lot of shields

Flowers don't sing like they used to
His garage still creaks on still summer heat

Days are cherry stems
Time is their flesh
The pit's what's left
Throw it away, too

Summer time blues
Bottom feeding pools
He might stare at the mom
In the green bathing suit, too long
His son rubs his crotch on the metal railing
In the deep end

Wash the watermelon
He dries himself off first
Never had a dad to teach him about his dick

He cracked a tooth
The world got to him
He got to himself
A man afraid of his pillow
Does dishes

Two doves on a wire at an intersection
He spots the damp rot of a picket fence
The wettest knot eyes him back

When he's out, he wants to be home
Where the food processor's on high
A breeze is on the checkered screens
And the fridge door beeps at betrayal
He could collapse in a neighbor's flower bed
But at home
Finally alone, he's the lucky one