The extreme heat caught us by surprise—like a kettle glowing red & too hot to pick up—the city is whistling & shining like an ember—the breeze has collapsed by the shoreline—it’s close—stuffy—skin is tightening on the bones—socks torture the feet—pants discard their owners & walk to the corner for popsicles—my shirt flew like a prehistoric bird & landed on a chair—I lay myself down with the light shut cuz its too exhausting to read & the light cooks the room—the streets are empty—liquid—the back wall of the theater cooked us to a turn—my car is acting my age—refusing to cool—windows are down now—the front door hangs open like a dog’s panting mouth—noise carries on heat waves as a guitar rallies chords & dances with a drummer from the second floor of the ghost ship tenement on the corner—plans are dropped/bets are cancelled—a walking ordeal—no fresh air in my nostrils—and my mouth is cat boxed—forecasts rattle as the girls in their summer clothes loose skirts swirling—as the party turns—heads spinning and hearts beating fast.