Lightning bugs flare and burn
like moribund smoke detectors
blinking into oblivion.
The real lighting bugs are those
electric green ones I'll see slowly
crawling across my frying pan
driveway in the June sunlight.
Or is it still May?
What an Olympian task this is.
But after all the sunglasses I've
and all of my drunk-on-Wednesdays
time means basically nothing to me,
like burning newspaper or a blank TV.