last night on the drive home a street sign waved hello.
the heat has come like a fever
it fries the nightlines in a humid soup
it drys your throat and chokes your eyeballs
oh **** it burns the tiny cuts in your sweaty hands
you've a need to break a melon and drink.
you've a need to roast sugars and tell tall tales of distant frights.
what real horrors lurk there
beneath the surface like smoke?
a dream, a fever, a skittering nightmare
it will come it will pass and we will all freeze.