i sat on the concrete

it was only nine in the morning but it was already hot enough to fry an egg

i’ll never get used to that

when it is ninety five degrees at three in the morning

or nearly one hundred degress at nine

the world hasn’t even started spinning at this hour

gravity works it’s magic on a lesser level

and as i sat there, my ass cooking like a cheap ham steak from the discount bin at the butcher shop

but it isn’t shop it is shoppe

like that makes the flies care less as they swarm around the front door

the old country spelling in the new country that isn’t all that new if you want to get down to brass tacks

my hat is hot on my sweaty bald head

but it is either that or a burn into a peel

no tan on this egg, just a hard boil or a hat

i squint up at the merciless whore of a sun, feel it trying to kill me before i’ve even had coffee, it’s detest palpable, maniacal whore i scream inside my head, shaking my fist at it

she doesn’t care

a horsefly the size of volkswagen keeps buzzing by me

attracted by the scent of defeat and cooking meat

i slap at it but it just keeps going

i’m the bug in this scenario it’s indifference says

those green segmented eyes

i swear it is circling and waiting for me to drop dead

between the sun and goddamned grapefruit with wings i cannot get a moment to gather my thoughts

the sound of water percolating through coffee grounds gets my attention

i’m out of filters, been recycling the one i have left for a week because it is either that or go to the store and it is roughly the same temperature out here as it was in cherynobyl

it becomes a race between running down aisles and avoiding the sights around me

they wear less than they should and it is a menagerie of grotesque and arabesque like an opium dream of poe

the great folds of skin laid bare as they suck down another liter of pop

their litter let loose like the hounds of war, screaming and fighting in front of everything i wrote on my list

the horsefly the size of my head lands next to me and we commiserate together

me covered in sweat, it rubbing it’s forelegs together and vomiting on the near molten concrete

the neighbor waves good morning, at least i think he waved, it may have been those waves from the heat distorting his image

when i was a kid i’d sit in the long soft kentucky bluegrass under the old oak tree and think eighty five was damn near boiling until the cool wind blew and it was doable

now i sit here, in the shade that might as well be on the flaming whore in the sky’s face and when the wind blows straight out of satan’s ass even the horse sized fly is sick of the shit and probably goes back to wherever it calls home and sits on a recliner and drinks tea from a sweating glass

i imagine it is a condo perched on the edge of log dropped by some poor canine that would rather have done number two in a hallway somewhere inside but was forced out into this thermonuclear wasteland by an owner that was just as unhappy as it was

i’m losing my mind out here

“yeah you are” the horse with wings says

it nays and flies away as i try and recall what brought me out here in the first place

out of the sanctity of my moderately cool home to this dali surrealistic nightmare

why i decided to fry my ass on the concrete

i don’t have the foggiest idea

i stand and feel the sweat flow down my back like a disgusting waterfall and go inside to sit in the cool and drink hot coffee

a luke warm shower to rinse the filth off and try and write

sure the words will come out stagnant like the fetid pools of water that litter the side of the road

but who knows

maybe today the gigantic horseflies will carry my words into the waiting world

doubt it

but if a fly can be roughly the same size as horse

anything’s possible