Group Portrait in Siloam Springs, Arkansas

We had heads gold or bronze or black full of bees honeying yes.
The pool, laminate blue, blazed against concrete white,
brighter than ska, brighter than pony eye.
Everyone sweltered, but didn’t care.
Hammocks imprinted our legs with memos,
of which we made paper rubbings that read rind, or frognight,
hot sauce