This was the year's first approximation to sweltering
In which we dripped
Our life out, salted old men
and women
in a rush to escape our own creation
Drenched in the liquid of life
it felt like piss
it felt like hell
So drink a beer all you happy suckers
told to sunscreen
or wear a hat, no tinfoil
We gathered then
in the middle of the week as only we can
we foolish academics
and our greased visages masked
under sleepy lids we watch each other
That felt like grass
that felt like balls, and tears
and cameraderie failed
and dying told you life could still ooze out
The fire within drives that
stupid, moronic phlogiston
of growth and friendship
the air
dry-ice machine and heat lamp
the water
precious interior given prodigally 'round
Now toast and relive
your precious glowing childhood


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