Summer Air

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I have known air like this, and I am glad this summer has not had much of it...



Summer Air

Summer air.
Not spring air.
Not warm-your-winter-chill air.
Not "ooh! I'll sit outside today" air.

No.

This is summer air.
Sauna air.
A blast furnace-powered sauna.

Summer air that
scorches the sidewalk and street
sending shimmering infrared waves
to smack me in the face.

Air with so much liquid that
I think the air itself
is sweating.

The air with weight,
heavy with all the humidity it hauls,
presses down on me
encumbering every step.

Wet air that catches and carries
the smells it meets,
but it doesn't move far.
This is air too substantial to be pushed
by anything so blithe
as a breeze.

Humid air that makes everything soggy,
too soaked to evaporate.
People shining and lethargic
open refrigerator doors
and pull out glass containers
instantly wrapped with dew.

I debate if the energy needed
to move the fan
is worth it
when the effort produces more heat
than it removes.

Is it a walk up the block?
or is it a swim?
With air too dense to breathe,
which way can I turn my head
to bring dry air
into my laboring lungs?

Sizzling, sultry air
forces me to strip
until I have removed
all the clothing
I can
without being arrested.

I drink cold water from a cup,
and hot water from the air.
The swelter
roasting
more water
from my flesh
than I can put in.

Air with more moisture content
than humans,
threatening to become sentient itself,
is a malignant presence
that keeps me awake at night
turning over and over,
trying to find a
cool
dry
spot on my pillow,
a place that my head,
drenched with sweat,
can lose enough fever
to bring sleep
and dreams
that are not filled
with steam.