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written by: Jocvaughan


Relentless heat and the good neighbors on the street
perspire under the trim tree limbs.
Hired help look grim and wish to swim
in the cool pool that entertains the entitled children
home from school for the summer.

Processed air hums my despair in here
where I bare (bear) my prayers.
Away from the great landscape shimmering like a mirage,
indoors, I shiver sweating feverish images
and rivulets of alliteration conspire with consonance
and leave my teeth chattering, chilled and wordless.



I hate this part.
To read me is to know me.
But I live with my husband and the one kid who hadn't left yet. I used to work for money, but I can't anymore, so I have time to do this instead.

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