Cooling It
I’m totally one more give out old man---
Trying to cool it . I don’t have anything left
to hurt for an encore.
Naked to the waist with my coveralls
splayed over the chair back—drying.
The hot breeze mellowing over my torso
like the dancing fingers of a masseuse.
Afraid to merely hint at a touch
for fear of destroying the mood.
The hot breath scorching the surface
faster than evaporation occurs.
I don’t remember 103 affecting me like this
in the past. Maybe hotter.
I don’t know, but I can’t
take this heat any more.
Back over my shoulders go the
now half dry clothes
Intending to go back into that infernal
place and work a bit longer
but God only knows,
I’m already one strung out mess.
I think I’ll sit here just a few minutes more
I’m totally one more give out old man---
Trying to cool it . I don’t have anything left
to hurt for an encore
Jul 26 For Rambling's "Gosh that was fast" contest
Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment