August Snow
All night sweating under a skin-wet sheet.
Fevered fantasies of skinny dipping
in a kiddy paddling pool,
toes as sticky as denture gum.
it’s broiling August.
Cold showers frazil
with soapy earth-baked splashes.
There’s a place to go
where they sell snow -
it’s a drug store, where they deal
in root beer floats, numb-numbs;
an ice-cream brain freeze. It helps.
Of course, in steamy September
when the sweat on your nose
flows upward
into parched eyes
a chilled Lime Phosphate
is the only cure.
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