summer heat

short sleeves for the long haul
on the bright afternoon
baseball gloves caked with dirt
and leather smell
and the girls with nothing there
these are the things of my dreams

fresh cut grass
and the birds are singing
dogs walking
old men strolling and winking
cold hands from the beer i'm drinking
there's nothing else
hot rocks and my fingers are screaming
waves crashing
and bikinis dancing
down green streets
and in the alleys
life exploding from cracks in pavement
these are the thoughts i'm thinking
these are the things of my dreams