hitzewelle
the city is an inferno today
no wind no clouds no chance no chance
of rain just a blazing
bonfire sun baking the trees the grasses the cars
melting bird shadows
turning my flat into a furnace.
it wouldn’t be so bad if this place had a/c.
but all I’ve got to cool me is a fan
this bowl of chilled grapes
and a refrigerator full of Helles.
oh well, I guess it could be worse
I could be that man I saw getting his chest pumped
on the S-Bahn platform this morning I could
be the teen who turned up his toes in the Spree
or my Icelandic neighbor hyperventilating
while clutching a pink unicorn.
three days
it’s been like this
three days and barely any sleep
a gluey substance
on my skin my brainpan boiling three days
since it began with an old man passing
under my window wearing nothing but green
underwear and pushing
a shopping cart loaded with insulation foam.
Horror Sleaze Trash 