Poem: Hot Times
Heat atmosphere to over 100 and baste yourself with beer. Then walk around the block.
Yesterday 100, today 103,
reminds me of the summer of 2021,
when the sun blasted us into submission
under a heat dome that fired up like the
inside of a grill. Still can’t believe
it got as high as 116, and with
no air-conditioning
I wrapped a wet
rag around
my head and fled
to a theater to cool down
at the longest movie in town -
In The Heights - and though I don’t
normally go for musicals, I stayed all the
way through the end of credits and was the last
to leave my seat. Heat beat down as I drove
through downtown, not a soul around,
and I saw a silver sedan sitting alone
in a handicapped zone, embroiled
in flames. Shamelessly, I
snapped a photo as I
passed by.
My brain fried,
I took leave of my
senses upon arriving home
and walked around the block
to find what it’s like to be a roasted,
beer-basted turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
May pass on the bird this year.
As I’m sitting in a hot car trying not to use the AC, I really enjoyed your poem!