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rejectomorph

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Swelter [Sep. 25th, 2016|09:45 pm]
rejectomorph
That handful of cooler days last week left me ill prepared to endure the heat that returned today. It was actually pretty warm all last night, as a north wind blew in from the desert. It continued much of the day, and the temperature topped a hundred. The combination of heat, insufficient sleep last night, going shopping, and probably the bit of vodka I slipped into the cool drinks I had this afternoon, has left me pretty close to stupefied. I forgot a couple of things at the store, and am sure to miss them later in the week. Also, I keep nodding off and probably won't be able to do much for dinner. Maybe a package of ramen.

The wind has softened to a breeze, though it is still warm. Tonight will be slightly cooler than last night was, and tomorrow slightly cooler than today, and this cooling will continue thereafter, but there will not be full relief until Thursday night. I'll hope that this is summer's last outburst.

There are English people on television tonight, but I can not expect them to murder one another. Yet more disappointment. I might have another cool drink with a bit of vodka in it.




Sunday Verse



A Mysterious Naked Man


by Alden Nowlen


A mysterious naked man has been reported
on Cranston Avenue. The police are performing
the usual ceremonies with coloured lights and sirens.
Almost everyone is outdoors and strangers are conversing excitedly
as they do during disasters when their involvement is peripheral.
'What did he look like? ' the lieutenant is asking.
'I don't know,' says the witness. 'He was naked.'
There is talk of dogs-this is no ordinary case
of indecent exposure, the man has been seen
a dozen times since the milkman spotted him and now
the sky is turning purple and voices
carry a long way and the children
have gone a little crazy as they often do at dusk
and cars are arriving
from other sections of the city.
And the mysterious naked man
is kneeling behind a garbage can or lying on his belly
in somebody's garden
or maybe even hiding in the branches of a tree,
where the wind from the harbour
whips at his naked body,
and by now he's probably done
whatever it was he wanted to do
and wishes he could go to sleep
or die
or take to the air like Superman.

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