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Southern heat wave blues
It’s ninety one but feels like more,
Like I opened up the Devil’s front door.
He said “Come on in!” with a fire breath grin
Now I’m sweatin' places I ain’t ever been.
The sidewalk’s cookin’ eggs on the sly,
Birds stopped chirpin', too hot to fly.
Even my dog gave me that judgmental look,
Like, “Take me out again and you’re getting cooked.”
Humidity’s clingy like a bad first date,
Stickin’ to me like it’s true soulmate.
My shirt’s now soup, my socks are stew,
And I swear my flip flops just melted through.
AC’s gaspin’, fan’s wheezin’ low
I bribed ‘em both just to halfway blow.
My iced tea’s warm, my will is weak,
I’ve been napping in the fridge since Tuesday this week.
So if you see me walking slow and fried,
Just know it’s the heat I ain’t yet died.
But tell my kin if I do collapse:
Bury me somewhere with cold sweet snacks.
Copyright ©
JRE JRE
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