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Our temperate country roasts and burns flesh
with Apple devices cheerfully
advising that the temperature is
currently a three dicey digit affair

walk in the 100 degree overheating
atmosphere, where sluggish slugs,
once mobile New Yorkers, search and save shady places that proffer
a handful of degrees relief from the
brutalist sun, who was heard smirking after a wet Juno,
"oh yeah,
I'm back baby with the vengeance
of a squalling and squabbling infant!"

and to harmonize on our lack of immunity from the terrors of weather, and yes, it's still June, the quiet nighttime skies awake us a thunderous slapping of sheeted rain, squalling and squabbling,
rat-a-tat large caliber bullet/droplets drilling holes in our
template temples expecting early
morning serenity;

the Newspaper rags in search of pithy witty declaim:
Rainstorms To Crack The Heat Dome In NYC

neglecting the cracking of tempest tossed tempers,
furthy discombobulated composure
of forced sheltering in place
more, again, uhh,
as if parched thirst or drowning are a choice

ok rant over!

the displeasure was all mine

— The End —