from FLIGHT OF AUGUST by Lawrence Eby • Cleaver Magazine
from FLIGHT OF AUGUST by Larry Eby 6. A desk melts into the tile floor, the windows cracked and browning. A forest of homes caught fire to dry cold, lightning struck Joshua tree, build the fire, son build the fire, son chilled wind is a devil’s claw. No one is clean out here. Among burning pines, ashen snow mixed in the bottle earth is. Crows nest atop streetlamps, cawing at the last frozen hand stuck to the curb’s edge. No is loud out here. Echoing off windows, echoing breaks the icicles from the eaves. A fire in the distance counts victims. 9. Billowing endless clouds smoke. dried up forest burning, … chop! chop! read more!