9.1.17

Fuck, it’s hot.

So hot that grass revives and dies in the same day.

My dog has thick black fur

and he appears always in a state of confusion,

delirium brought on by the unchecked sun.

The pavement cooks the soles

of our feet

and melts the rubber bezel

on tennis shoes;

mailmen curse the name of god;

the horseflies are enormous and lethargic,

allowing human beings to touch them;

they don’t care; no one cares

in this wasteland of scorching air,

heat-induced apathy,

apathy like black magic

rending our hearts into twisted things

that forget how to feel and remember

only to survive, protect, and continue.

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Written at 1:21 in the afternoon, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.