Middle of August and the heat
is just about unbearable
and who could have any appetite
in all this steam?
at night I lie awake
and worry about the scorpions
and now the flies are getting worse
as summer moves toward autumn
wearing the robes and belts of office
I sit at work and want to scream
and my subordinates
just pile up more paperwork
I stare out the window at the pines
that rim the canyons in the distant mountains
and dream of walking barefoot
across crushed ice!