The Porch

most come to visit with a mild static
in their legs, easing off first by the swing, its lilt
evident, its promise of ecstasy
so real to the touch.

only chain keeps you up, its easy screech
of back and forth
interrupted by jasmine blossoms
whiffing perfume on dust mites.

breathe deeply, inhale, your intoxication
sweeps spiders off their perches,
knocks mosquitoes off
their food runs, blotchy skin
still ripe with red blood.

stop at your peril,
push off with toes so happy to be
useful, no insects fly at such low range,
just the perfect evening coolness,
with pink sunset’s dancing hopes
alive.