Thunder bangs and cracks,
The asphalt sizzles.
On its sweating back,
A nervous baby grizzles.
Blades chop uselessly
At thick, fetid air.
Clothes are loosened desperately,
Our oozing skins bared.
Arguments subside,
Their protagonists cede, weak.
Ga-ga, they’re slumped inside,
Too stupefied to speak.
These sultry days have all but dried
Our reservoirs of peace.
© S.P.D.
