Clint Eastwood Sun

This spittoon of a day
claws into the sky
& wrings out a heat index
of 96 degrees

We all do
backstrokes in the pool
of community sweat,
heat strokes
on the asphalt

Like an ancient curmudgeon,
the sun is
hollering at us
for existing
Get off the lawn
Use inside voices
Bite your tongues
 and
lips
and hot ghosts

It’s a center of the earth
kind of afternoon

 

 

Featured on The Temz Review

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