Monday, May 20, 2019

Poem: May 18, 2019

It's Not the Heat

The first day it happens,
it slaps you and sticks
to you like wet Saran Wrap,
a sliding, sagging 
second skin, an oppression
made of sunlight and 
the rotting remains of 
thunderstorms.
Get used to it. It happens
a lot around here.


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