jimmy childree's face holds the last rays of the day
sun down, sky light, fields fading
in griston community,
unincorporated dodge county georgia
air smells like marshmallows toasting
in lambent topaz glow
inky leafed treetops
lightning bugs flicker
sparkling in synchrony
insect constellations
cosmic communiqués

jimmy childree leans over his peachwood desk
in dodge county georgia
his eyes all over mine, his eyes a little scared
and more than a little jealous he says
"you rode with the wildest boys ever come outa this county"
and he leaves it hanging in the air
so i gaze through jimmy childree's head
like my cat gazes through me
focused on a point five miles away and years back

and find myself on the empty georgia two lane blacktop

we're silent howling beatniks

claiming the road as our own road
curling through across into the real land the real heart
beating thrumming leaking light
slow motion joyride
slow highways crisscross the joyland
25 miles per hour at o' dark thirty
crazy cricket bullfrog patterns
backed by clean tire hiss rolling slow
rolling on the empty silver moon path highway
tears for all the molasses summer women
naked silky limbs poured into skin heaven scent
we cry for the ones we can't have
we thank god for each of the others
our souls spool out ecstatically
as a silver thread erratic
between double blazing yellow lines

"jimmy," i say in the golden light
"religion takes a break on summer nights
it can't compete with these tall fields
erect with urgency, ripe fruit and perfume
invisible in the night but palpable
like tumblers tripping in a combination lock . . ."

jimmy childree's face ripples
like light through water
shadows crisscrossing
on the bottom of
the summertime summerpool

by the boy crickets