The Dog Days Of Summer

It’s summer time —

— that’s no
bummertime —

happy days
and sunshine

melt the icy
memory
of snow.

Ok,
so it’s
not Shelley,
I’ll admit.

More like
Steve Miller…. 

which is why
I dropped
the verse
after 4 lines.

Still,
one must admit a
grudging admiration
for the stifling heat
of summer in
contrast to the
bitter cold we had
this last winter.

If one more pocket
philosopher informs
me that it’s :
“not the heat,
it’s the humidity”
I’m gonna shove a
thermometer some
where they’re going
to have a difficult
time retrieving same.

90- 100% humidity
is, indeed, a factor
that we regularly
deal with here in the
South –

usually with dignity…

– cause we’re kinda
used to it, if such
a thing was really
possible.

At such levels,
the sweat is
sucked out of your
pores so fast it doesn’t
really have time to cool
your body —

Basically, it’s just nature’s
way of making you feel
like a damp, smelly gym
sock all summer long.

Even my dog thinks I
smell bad at this time 
of year.

And in case
you were wonderin’,
Daisie Doggie is doing
fine —

she’s got her spot picked
out on the couch, right
in front of the window
air conditioner in my 
study, where she then
simply requires a blanket
to keep her cozy but still
cool.

Ok,
a red Twizzler to
gnaw on occasionally,
two toys,
and some peace
and quiet
are also very
appreciated.

Put some Gershwin
on the stereo while
you’re at it —

–not too loud,
though.

A dog’s life.

Hey,
summer time —
where the livin’s easy.

.

!! HOY !!

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