Here at our rooftop, collegiate, ‘resort of the mind,’
an early heatwave has struck - we’ve been advised.
Like we needed it. It’s 94°f and climbing - we’re not insensitive.
We’re aware that the sun is bright and the air is crisp and hot.
It was Friday morning, until the sun pointed to noon.

Nothing’s going to stop the summer swelter except thunder storms - which are on their way - we’ve been advised.
A seasonable tempest is being piped-up from the sea.
Like we needed it. We can see the far horizon’s shadowed billows and curtains of rain - we feel the changing wind.

But we have every reason to be cheery, forewarned as we are,
here at the pool, in the still needed shade, armed with margaritas.
The weather may change, the season alter, but we will, unaltered, remain.

We seem to have captured a moment of buz. People are swinging-by, dropping-in, bringing drinks and party snacks then lurking by the pool.

Fridays are 'sui generis'—magical—because they play tricks with time. Dreary weekday landscapes seem to transform, as the old week wanes and ‘the pert and nimble spirit of mirth awakens.’
(A purposeful Shakespeare misquote).
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Songs for this:
Heat Wave by Linda Ronstadt
Heatwave by Bronski Beat
Heat wave - Bing Crosby

Haiku – Some Fun
Haikus are fun
You can put in a little
Something like a pun

Haiku – In My Brain
Haiku in my brain
I can’t stop I’m just insane
Haiku don’t complain

Haiku – *******
I see stars, I fell
It’s hot, am I in some hell
Get up you *******

Haiku – For You
Haiku just for you
Learned to count them 5-7-5
Now I’m stuck to you

Haiku - Till Morning
Last one for the night
I can only dream some more
Can’t wait till morning

Butterflies are flying around—on a bright sunny day.

Butterflies that are a honey brown— as the crust of the sun.

Flying around because the sun is out.

Not to hide or hibernate in their cocoons.

Concealing themselves from the outside world—not doing that today.

They can't inherit the trait of being anti-social, because they are not human.

At least not in this season, because it is bright outside.

Not being contrary to anyone’s belief.

Not worrying about the input or the output.———
These butterflies are free, scavenging around for places to hide.

Although the night had ceased, the Sun.

They—> Butterflies,
ran around like elephants encountering mice—
or humans encountering roaches.

Looking for a tree to settle on, as if there were not numerous amounts outside.

Out of all the figures outside—
It chose to stand by me?

The spot on my skin that is the most rough.

The spot on my skin textured like trees.

The spot on my skin that looked like the trees.

“Oh.”

Realization then dawned on me, just like that the sun woke up like a new idea—
and the Moon left to attend a party on the other side.

Like the Moon, the butterfly flew away, back onto the tree with a newfound realization.

His arm is over my waist as I sleepily adjust.
Bristles of an old, worn curtain against my hip.
I can feel that.
That scratchy cloth barely grazing my thigh made me feel more alive. I knew I had to be alive.
No way I’m dead.
I would like to be the first ghost who feels a breeze.

I have a confession to make. I’m a trust fund baby
and a member of the educated Elite.

In my defense, I'm a newcomer in both categories.
I got my trust fund at 18 and graduated Yale University this year.

I was a double major, at university, in biochemistry and celibacy,
until as a sophomore, I met this tall, handsome, awkward, disheveled, physicist in a coffee shop and knavishly schemed my way into his life.
(He insists that he knavishly schemed his way into my life.)

Let’s get poetic-ish..

I said,
“Let’s start a flirtationship
abstract, immaterial and fun.
We have a little chemistry - an interesting.. tension.
Could we just have an involvement and not read into it?
Something  friction free, hands free, germ free, and guilt free?
Let's get a pizza, don't worry, I'm paying."

Of course, that was a lie.
I had designs, I wanted him in the utmost
and honestly, when do I not get what I want?

"I was by far the knavishist." I admitted.
"Then you don't know knavishEST.," he responded, shaking his head 'no'.
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songs for this:
Honeypie by JAWNY
Really Saying Something by Bananarama & Fun Boy Three
Hanging On the Telephone by Blondie

On a voyage
In the sea of knowledge.
Each and every page -
A new stoppage.

Many pages bound together
With a cover made of leather.
Pages as white as white feather,
All the information I gather.

A structured presentation
With graphical representation.
A sky of narration
And a table of notation.

Starting with table of contents
Then onset of concepts
Rich with facts and experiments
To every curious thought, I give vents.

From physics to chemistry
I resolve biological mystery.
From philosophy to history
A road to your intellectual mastery.

All about General Reginald Dyer
And explaining how do plants transpire
From magnetic field around a wire
To E=mc².

she met him at the lumber yard
he thought she worked there

she said she hated lights  
and got a little slutty when it was
dark after a beer or two

she said she loved trucks
and mother nature

he said jump In mine
I know a dark field

handing her an ice cold
six pack of Schmitz

~esk 20 July 2025

arranging the tiles
and sorting production chits
must happen to start

I will not trade ore
trades should benefit us both
I’m building a city