HEAT

At first it was sort of like a dog lying next to the bed
Panting
My head was warm and without any covers I was
Sweating
The pillow was damp, the breathless air would not
Move

I tried to remember the cold, clear nights of stars
Crackling
But I felt my tongue drying out in the stagnant air
Swollen

So now, we live in the big heat bubbling like a
Furnace
Everyday we feel it like a weight, like we might be
Guilty

In Iowa, the corn is dying in July, no ears are
Opening
The frogs have burrowed back into the cracked mud
Hoping

On the freeway, the cars shimmer without motion
Melting
On the baking hills, the anguished forests now
Flaming
The rivers shrunken to dusty rocks, fish
Dying

When I cry to the angels at the end of all Roads
Begging
Praying for some relief, somewhere in the ashes
Drifting
They forbid me with their living swords of fire
Burning