To the radio

music, drifting
from windows propped
open by empty beer
bottles, and the open-
gabled side-wall
of a subdivided house.

scorched notes, dried up
and flickering – paper
by a desk fan
on a scorching dry day.

as roaming
and aimless
as a fly
in a kitchen,
running
through traffic
like fingers
through hair,
becoming lost
in more distant
sounds. someone

is making their
dinner. listening
to the radio
while they cut
apart steak.

they are sharing
their music
with the kitchen
and everyone passing;
a flowering dandelion.
a cracking hot
pavement and street.