Keeping Cool

Heat rises its long reach from molten core
squeezed under kitchen table pressures.

The grasses and weeds in the yard yellow
naturally gone dry for late summer days.

Long hours, short nights of slow heat and
little sleep, but the cars are street discreet.

A wet rag wringed and wrapped around
the back of your neck under your hair.

The artificial breeze of the electric fan,
the whirring windows open all night.

Shades closed the room this darkened
cave where the laptop glows cool blue.

The cat nice asks that you not lap so near,
her fur matted where she prefers to nap.

All the weather apps say the same thing:
“Where have all the flowers gone, long…”

The cows and bulls a hard beating breath
sucked under ranch rugs, deep keen heat.

Artificial air, ice pops, ice cream, sorbets,
thongs, cutoffs, old truck windows down,

toxic blooms, wildfire smoke-drift, fresh
red hot chili peppers, snow melt rivers,

ice-cold beer, County Fair watermelon,
under maple tree the guitar gone dulce.

And your sweet cool voice breezes down
the evening as we open the stuffy house

and listen to a baseball game on radio
players far off dance on a hot diamond.

And hence to bed where we do not sleep
in this weepy whimpering August dust.