Sunday, September 02, 2007

Hot Poetry

I am hot.
H-O-T ... Hot.

Snowy mountains. Icicle branches hanging in the frigid mountain air.

Whole body plunge into glacial mountain lake. Numb from cold. Can't feel my toes.

Cool breeze in my face as I skate on the Ice. I fall down. I stay down. Ice cold on my face. Tongue stuck to ice.

Making snow angels in the snow bank. In the nude. Rosie Pink Cheeks. Goose bumps.

Watermelon. Gazpacho. Frozen Margaritas. Ice cold lemonade. Snow Cones - Blue, Green, and Yellow. Dairy Queen. We treat you right.

Antartica.

- An original poem by Cindy and Kristy Messler trying to escape the 108 degree weather.

1 comment:

CV said...

Damn Skippy! Yesterday we went to Venice Beach and I plunged twice into that wonderful cold Pacific Ocean.

It's 8:45am and already muggy. What the eff?