…my memories from years ago, living in the Ohio River Valley…
F inding it best to breathe more slowly in this August heat, I inhale haltingly. I can almost feel my nostrils singed by scalded air, nearly too hot and thick to breathe. The heat is suffocating. In my need for oxygen, I cautiously fill my lunges, baking them with each sustaining breath. This broiling oven is difficult to endure.
My skin weeps, ablaze in this inferno. I feel salted droplets baste my neck, trace their way irritatingly down my spine, to puddle in the small of my back, saturating the waistband of my running shorts. They collect in the hollow of my chest, hesitant in its fire breathing. Infuriatingly, they soak my shirt.
Annoying beads of sweat, bloom and seep, from beneath the smother of hair, now just a matted soak atop my head. They ooze their way, down the fevered slope of my forehead, into my eyes — and sting! Endeavoring to transform my beard into a salty bog, they cling bitter in my mustache, impossible not to taste.
Be damned you glaring sphere! You crackle in this steaming sky, bearing down rude and relentless, heartlessly imposing, sapping my energy. Nothing will be accomplished this day, my motivation is expired. Exhaustion permeates this humid midday. My thoughts feel sticky, my synapses overheated. Can I last until the quenching Autumn rain? Questions evaporate in this blistering August heat, desires vaporize, even dreams are scorched!
simmering here in august
even my mind sweats
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
And Marilyn sang,” We’re having a heat wave, a tropical heat wave”. Living for a decade in S. CA. I never adjusted well to high temps. One summer I worked outside in Palm Springs in 120 degree temps. Your poem brings all that sweltering back; thanks.
Year I spent in Tucson AZ introduced me to desert heat — YOW! My transportation the entire time, was my Triumph Bonneville 650 motorcycle. Anywhere I went during the day, I had to park it in the shade, or I couldn’t sit on the seat or put my hand on the grips — they’d get screaming hot!!
BTW, for the record — that was Martha and her Vandellas. One of my favorite songs ehen it wax released the summer of 1963, the year I turned 16. I used to blare that on the AM car radio in my black and white ‘57 Chevy Bel Air V-8 Sport Coupé — red and black interior! God, those were great times, and I loved that fuckin’ car!! (and it was) https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:57_Chevy_BelAir_2_Door_Hardtop.jpg
Martha Reeves had a perfect voice for Motown soul.
https://youtu.be/XE2fnYpwrng
“I require oxygen to sustain life.”
“as if my synapses are coated.”
That’s hot! 🙂
‘Be damned you glaring sphere, crackling in this steaming sky. You bear down rude and relentless, heartlessly imposing, sapping my energy.’ I can almost visualize you standing there, hands on hips, yelling the sun. LOL. Good one Rob!
Thank you Christine… 🙂 …there were days, when I lived in the Ohio River Valley, at its 95 degrees and 95% humidity, that I almost did just that — certainly in my mind.
Well done Rob… the heat can really get to you in these mid summer days. Take it easy and don’t overdo yourself!
Great haibun.
Thank you Dwight… 🙂
Searing. A bit much, just like the heat you describe. Also a PG fan here
Thanks Eric — I absolutely abhor heat&humidity!! …but I love Gabriel!
You’d love it here, Rob. We haven’t had summer yet or spring for that matter. It’s been like autumn since May.
That actually sounds wonderful Jane… 🙂
As a Jerusalemite without a car, Rob, I can really relate to this… schleping under the sun to and from work (and to and from my daughter’s preschool) is a killer. Ugh.
-David
Heat and humidity can be tough to deal with David. I admire your strength sir.
I think I need a glass of lemonade after reading this. It sounds like you need to move north. Nice job of engaging the reader.
We did move north Patti, after experiencing that hell every summer in the Ohio River Valley. We now live in the northwest corner of Washington State, not far from the Canadian border. We have occasional forest fires, but cooler summers, with little to no humidity. And the vast wilderness her is just beautiful. Just must avoid the flames from time to time… 😉
Soooo…. you’re really loving this August thing, huh? Loved your self-description.
Thanks Ron… 🙂
We visited Sedona two years ago. When we walked out of the airport in Phoenix, I swear that I could have cooked an egg on the curb! Your apt evocation of that searing, desert, August heat brought that all back for me! Excellent!
Love Sedona Frank, but between Oct-April. My wife and I used to get juried in to sell our art at the Sedona Arts Festival each October. Beautiful place!
Mein Godt, Rob, is this the magical August I described?! Is there no shade where you are? I want to send a huge pitcher of southern iced sweet tea!
Hi Bev! This piece was conjured more from my years in Cincinnati, in the Ohio River Valley, where the dead of August was (90+ 90+ hell) … heat in the 90’s and humidity in the 90’s, and it made you feel like hell!. It gets hot occasionally here in Seattle, and the forests burn frequently in the PacNW — but weather’s not that hot and not for that long — and very little humidity. As long as you avoid the flames, August isn’t bad here. 🙂 Drank lotsa sweet tea the year I lived in Columbus GA, in 1980, on the banks of the Chattahoochee. That may be why I have diabetes!? …and that is why my tea is now sugar free. I was there on 12-month development contract to the Settles Bros, helping them expand their torch tip manufacturing empire to include the manufacture of loudspeakers — which I did. I learned to love southern bbq, and especially Brunswick Stew while in Columbus — also also real pee-can pie. I also learned what it truly “felt” like to be called a “yang-kee”!
I could actually feel the heat an sweat while reading this.
Time for a cold shower!
Love cold showers, but my arthritis is not as appreciative… 😉