Twilight Heat

Heat makes you do things.

Makes you stay out past sunset,

pounding the basketball against

steamy pavement

trying to beat twilight’s defense.

Makes little girl do the splits

on barely-cooling-off cement.

It gathers the homies to drink

under a big shady tree

building a pyramid of empties.

It’s Sunday, doesn't matter

if work awaits in the morning,

gotta quench that thirst.

The heat got the best of 'em, bro'. 

Heat, it’s passion in your guts

hot as an habanero

bursting out into “Spiderman” layups,

or dripping and dipping on warm iron bars,

like the young dude doing pull-up after pull-up.

Pull-ups give young dude

Ironman chest.

Sweat. Heat makes me sweat

I’m feeling under your gaze

“Chocolate Bar stomach”

look away, Mamma hawk

not hunting tonight.

As you were! Dipping away,

I’ll see you in my dreams

wet, shinny, flexing

pecks and biceps proudly

like some urban Aztec god

bobbing your head to the sound

of your workout routine.

Heat can make you

lose it if you let it.

Short circuit of the brain

old  wiring

can only give so much juice

can’t process the requests

and shuts down.

Leaving you in darkness

alone with your hot head.

So hot you see white

but doesn’t feel

like a walk in the clouds.

Washed over with tears

as you talk yourself off

sabotage bridge.

Get your ass up!

Crack that window open

bust that shit wide.

Come back from the future!

Refuse to die, to fizzle out

got the rockets red flare

of my nostrils

and heart working on overdrive

to prove it.

Pumping, pumping, pumping

cyclist legs,

pumping, pumping, pumping

urban Aztec god.

Pumping- burning away the toxicity.

Got my room looking like the 1800’s

Industrial dark, darker than dark

as my carbon footprint balloons.

Not just wasted resources

DiRTeee energy.

Angry, silenced, recycled

In-HER-Chi

cutting the bullshit out

much rather fertilize.