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,
apathy like black magic
rending our hearts into twisted things
that forget how to feel and remember
only to survive, protect, and continue.
Written at 1:21 in the afternoon, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.