trick or treating in june--

ring the doorbells 
of the lamp posts 
& we'll fill
our pockets with lightning 
bugs in candy wrappers--
you ask me how many more months
it is until halloween 
& i laugh 
& tell you that it's tonight--
i can tell because of the way 
the moon is following us
down the gravel pathways through
town-- 
the ghosts stir
in the teased hair of the maple trees--
the cockroaches are walking
into the veins of the houses
on main street--
so we sit on the front porch 
& carve a jack-o-lantern 
out of cicada melodies-- light
the fire in it's belly
with the flicker
of sun flame burnt on to 
our shoulders--
the lightning bugs
push free from their wrappers &
fly out of our pockets to bang their
heads on the lamps & fly
higher to the stars--
bang their heads into Orion's belt--
we ring more door bells & 
no one seems to have stocked
up for the night so we buy
a bag of candy corn
to plant in the backyard for 
next year--
we're going to grow a maze to
get lost in together between
the stripes of white, orange,
& yellow--
we put on our costumes
even though it's thick
& soupy outside-- after all it
is halloween--
you're dressed as a witch &
me as the grim reaper from
when i was eight & just becoming
fascinated by death--
plastic sythe in hand
ready to collect the souls
of a the crickets who chirp
out the temperate & the spirits 
of the cicadas who 
wait for us for 
sixteen years underground--
we sit under the street lamp 
again with empty pumpkin buckets
& i tell you i had been
hoping most of all to score
some Twizzlers & you say you 
would settle for 
any type of chocolate--
you make me want to kiss the orange
into the leaves on the trees
for you but instead i ask
to kiss you & you say yes--
i love you like cicadas who 
become jack-o-lanterns & 
our front door we imagined in the torso
of the street lamps--
i love you so much the moon
followed us home & got stuck
in the hair of the maple trees--
i love you like halloween in june--
unexpected & too early
& too late-- bright like
the sun fire off our shoulders--
bright like the open
mouth of the jack-o-lanterns
we carved 
on the front porch--