Where did they get this
   this hot wet rag, this molten web,
this immense fist of heat,

assassin of summer hopes and winter

thing that makes March slush look

        lovely and bends all thought
                 to homicide.

Now we know the "Bloody Tropics"

          beyond the blood-thin books,

      inside the steaming marrow of our
    bleached and blistered bones,

with shvitz we can't


On the 42nd day of the Great Heat
August 1988

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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