105 degrees


I'm drying up
being asphyxiated in the heat
I'm withering away
being washed up in its dryness

totally broken
recklessly shattered

I wash away
with
the wind... it sears and purges

demolishing, destroying, decaying
the heat... a wet blanket smothering
I wash away
I wash away
with the heat wave from the doldrums
with the blizzard from hells summer solstice
with the 105 degrees of wall to wall
of deep magenta shag carpet of a heat
I smother, I quiver, I wither
I shake, shine and burn

and it smells like chlorine
105 degrees of it


Copyright 2003 by pauly hart