I think that I shall never see, a summer packed with so much heat. When I dare to venture out, my car insists I do without. So windows open, arms out-thrust, I’m hit with heat that comes in gusts. My hair is tousled, armpits stained, drenched in sweat; I look deranged. I purchase ice cream by the ton, forgetting ’bout the horrid sun. I get them home and find out that the cartons now are liquid vats. I’m at the point where I would take a blizzard to this wilt-n-bake.