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

gone through,

and all of my drunk-on-Wednesdays

time means basically nothing to me,

like burning newspaper or a blank TV.