6/2/2014

What to do with a day like today?  Obsess.  I obsess over heat that cannot be described as sweltering.  I ascribe agency to sweat and talk down to indecisive pores that cannot commit, every move toward the exits interrupted by breezes and shades and rotary fans.  I recoil at the painful insides of sunny automobiles, I obsess over them too.  I am obsessed with days like today, not the relieved excitement of the first hot spring day or the needy clinging of the early October indian summer, but days like today, those early days in June in which the permanence of summer arbitrarily asserts itself.  Days to be spent reading the high school books that still define your world, days to be spent kissing your girlfriend in the back of your car on the grounds of ski resort finally rendered irrelevant, days to be spent in line at Dairy Kings where the race-baiting dads of local beauty queens are making good but unspectacular business, days to be spent doing nothing, absolutely nothing, staring at ceilings and exchanging confused glances with air conditioners and cold showers and other not yet necessary companions.  The dog days are coming, they have sent in their RSVPs but they are not here yet. Obsess over these days of warning track because these days obsess over you, they do this on purpose.  So seduced by the almost cool of the open window, you fall asleep and bathe yourself in the stick succor of summer sweat, honest-to-goodness summer sweat soaking your winter blankets.  A threat finally realized, obsessively.