Thursday, May 1, 2014

It's Wicked Bright Outside

It's freaking hot as blazes out here. We've turned on the air-conditioner, a sort of unprecedented event in late April/early May. When I walked outside, it smelled smoky, but the sky is an implacable blue, so I'm wondering if there aren't fires somewhere, their trace brought in with the hot winds blowing all the palms and stripping my lips. We all feel weird on days like these, sort of bottled up, maybe dangerous. Those of us with tongues like scythes don't need a stone to sharpen us. If I weren't round and soft, I'd be all edges. There's nothing languid about this kind of heat. If I weren't typing, my fingers might be talons, unsheathed.


  1. Im at the other extreme here - jersey wont warm up!!!

  2. It's very hard for me to imagine being hot at this time of year!

  3. And I'm sitting here in Florida, freezing. Weirdness abounds.

  4. Is it the Santa Ana winds? I've heard that those credited as the source of all kinds of pent-up feelings, tension and crazy happenings. Sending cool, peaceful, light-rain-showery thoughts.



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