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.