The Weekly Poem: Heat Wave

Father, Son and Holy Ghost!
Meat on the sidewalk becomes a roast.
Summer’s a climatic whipping post,
The time of year I hate the most.

The dogs are panting, I am sweating,
I’ll never make the bus, I’m betting.
Miserable and mean I’m getting;
Summer is the year’s worst setting.

“F@#k you, seat’s mine!” the people say
Riding on the bus today.
The weather makes them talk that way.
July: politeness doesn’t pay.

Tell me, is it from May 21st
When none of us repented first?
‘Cause Satan couldn’t cast a curse
Which could be a fraction worse

Than this disgusting heat.

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4 Comments

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  1. I wish i could agree with you on this awesome poem but i am seriously praying for summer on this end of the world. i just hope the sun doesn’t burn out before it gets here

    • Last time I visited South Africa it was in November. I love visiting the country and my in-laws there, but it was soooo strange to have my regular pleasantly chilly October (my favorite month of the year), then a month of blazing Jo’burg and Mpumalanga spring sun, and then straight back into winter when our plane landed in NYC in December. It made a serious mess of my body’s seasonal clock.

      I’m sure there will be plenty of sun left over once it gets back to your side of the world. I remember visiting Jo’burg in July – it felt hot enough to me, though I know it was in fact “winter”. My mother-in-law puts on a hat, stockings and a coat when the temp gets below sixty or seventy. But that’s perfect weather to me.

      Thanks for reading and subscribing!

  2. Love it, love it – the HEAT that is!
    You need to transfer this disgust to the unbearable cold of winter or write me a poem about wind chill factors.

    • I hope you can at least appreciate the poem’s stellar literary merits, even though you don’t agree with the sentiment. Someday I will write a poem about your winter sufferings.

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