The sky is humid pale. The heat envelopes like a soggy towel,
Not a day to stay outside. The motorcycle ride was nice, as
Speed blew off the heavy air and danger clarified my mind.
Before I rode, I sweated through the yard work I had pledged
To do, and, afterward, I climbed aboard a raft and lolled about
The pool. Even that became unpleasant. Now, I hide inside
The house, a hypocrite who cools himself with power made
By burning coal, the quintessential western asshole. Bake,
You people stuck out on the streets of Bangalore
And Houston. All that matters is my ease. Toward that end,
I think I'll fix myself the sahib's gin and tonic. I will drink it
As I gaze out at your deadly sky.