The heat is bad. A fan provides no relief. All the pleasure is gone from drinking water, but you have to drink or pass out and so you keep drinking. The only foods you want to eat are dripping with grease and salt, or dug from green dappled rinds.
The only living creature in my apartment that is happy is the majesty palm. The other plants are looking wilted and oppressed.
But it has been a beautiful day. I walked down to a nearby park and climbed a tree and swung from playground swings. I also discovered that the "blackberry tree" in the alley is a mulberry, so it's officially safe to eat the fruit.
I wrote a poem yesterday.
The heat is killer.
4 comments:
sure! what's your e-mail?
POST POEM.
oh yeah. you'll have to forgive me. everyone is changing their info and i can't keep it all straight. :)
oh and for linds...
poem forthcoming. blargh. i don't think it's very good, but it's better than all the NOTHING i've been writing since christmas.
Post a Comment