too hot

It may just be the lack of moving
Air in here, over the brick and up
Into the rafters of this high ceiling
Outside, Sunday sleeps deeply at 10
And already, the heat
Holding out with the AC you see
Hoping that the bird over there
Knows something I don’t flying
This way on what looks like a draft
Wings still, diving after a morning
Snack, coffee, or something cold maybe
There’s heat and then there’s too hot
Which may be where this day moves
And maybe I’ll move there
Absorb the heat and then tonight
Walk through the city again
Feeling a better part of it
Having endured it to the point
Where it doesn’t matter how hot
It may just be the lack of moving

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