This is how I remember August:

summer becomes “scorch,”

a mind-numbing, Sleepy Time

kind-of-hot. Whenever

Summer becomes scorch-

-ing hot, like an egg-frying-in-a-ceramic pan

kind-of-hot, whenever

flip-flops melt on the pavement, they’re blister

-ing hot, like an egg frying in a ceramic pan.

We go get Sonic fruit slushes, we have

flip-flops melt on the pavement, they blister

until the rains come.

We go get Sonic fruit slushes, we have

a mind-numbing, sleepy time

until the rains come.

This is how I remember August!

My head’s a Ziploc 

bag of water,

totally Zoomed online & out

from an Amtrak train

it’s plain to see

my mind’s not making

any new thoughts—

they swim away swiftly 

like hot tuna 

& my body’s wrapped up

in a black bathrobe,

200 lbs of new fatted flesh

& my legs are frozen 

from hours of traveling,

& I want to think 

new thoughts again

like I used to 

but here’s the Olympics!

they are all tan & toned

& incredible,

no frozen fat here

I wonder what they think about

before they compete 

for the gold?

I used to have golden thoughts 

& was thinner before 2020

(not blaming COVID, maybe

peri-menopause?)

we didn’t have sex

in the beautiful hotel room

(another damn period),

but I still felt golden

because I was exploring 

another place

with my love.