Alice Wyatt
August, New Mexico
August, New Mexico

August heat makes us snappish.
Please, and Thank You, melt into
What?!, and Whatever.
Sweat trickles between breasts
released
from the bondage of bras.
Clothes?
Less is more.
To hell with modesty.
Slumbering cat ears
flick in the false breeze
of the rotating fan.
Dogs dig in cool dirt,
wiggle a wallow,
stay until sundown.
Wings held wide
chickens pant,
peck chilled watermelon.
Spring gardens, tenderly nurtured,
bloom then bolt,
going to seed, and nobody cares.
Freshly picked cucumber
salads, soups, and sandwiches,
all there is for supper.
Weather forecast on repeat
Sustained - Incessant - Unremitting
HEAT
We complain.
We whine.
We bemoan our fate.
We stay.
This is home. Where else would we go?