The servers over at WordPress must be having a little meltdown. It’s taken me over ninety minutes to be able to hop and and begin to post day six of the #30DaysOfSummerWritingChallenge theme poem. Cue frustration with not being able to post the Poetry Daily and get on with other tasks that beckon. But I am hard at it playing catch up after posting the finished poem for the day on the group’s Facebook page two hours ago.
Today’s theme is Heatwave. Which is a relative term since a few days over 25C/74F qualifies as a fullblown Irish heatwave. The tar on our lane begins to melt because really, why would you put on the pricier stuff that resists higher temperatures if there may be not need over twenty-four months. When the mercury hits 20C a lot of Irish strip off shirts and air pasty white chests to catch a few rays of sunshine. It turns folks heads. Their brains curdle a bit in the unexpected sun and heat.
Having been reared in the NE USA, winter temps were routinely below 0C for months on end. Likewise, there were stretches of weeks with the mercury above 30C with a 99% humidity when I lived in Washington, DC. I know heatwave. And I don’t like them one little bit.
Days of relentless sunshine.
Walking through a Turkish bath
to join commuters
worrying their deodorant.
Standing back from the weird guy
who goes without donning some.
Office air-con alternates
between Arctic and air trickle.
Personnel hours are spent on
discerning its temperament,
fiddling about its dial.
Then rewind the morning journey.
More photochemical smog
in Turkish bath, commuters
wilted, less morning fresh now.
Home. Pull out the bourbon bottle.
Fill a tall glass with ice cubes.
Slug it full. Add some sugar.
Top with a bush of mint.
Take your mint julep to porch,or
easy chair before TV.
Naked if necessary.
Take your ease. Proceed to get
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