in the cool midnight

outside the local diner strange moans coated the dangling grass (echoes of sportsfest?) demanding investigation. the field was alive with phantom saxophone as if irreal bop clubs were sprouting from the lakeside. advance (all) scouts (us) sent over the creek reported megaphoneloudspeakers on a telephonepole: casing removed antenna attached screaming madhouse jazz and static at intangible spectators

real summer

doin' more, producing less. whatever