"Block Party" by Alec Hershman

When someone opened an umbrellawe were family against the sun.The hours came apart like peat,daylight inducing phantom cocktailsuntil customs could re-enter through the dinner guests.Still, waiting on the oven's lamb I was a little drunk,but happy to receive them: warm white faceson the patio. I did not faun,yet neither did I turn them down.Our talk arranged the chairsuntil the moon slipped on,a thumbnail through blue muslin.When someone was my sistershe could sew hot-air balloons, then driftacross malingerers. She knew the rules:to crash was to be uninvited.