dull hot night

air too thick to breathe

you would need

to push yourself

through air

like walking through

plaster

and still find no cool

spot

the priests used to joke

that Hell would be hotter

that this

I'm sure they know

under this sky

like crushed velvet

with lusterless pearls

in poor imitations

of stars

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.