(immoderate)

1999.
An immoderate
year,
devoid of temperate
weather.
The seasons duke
it out for domination.
Winter. Spring.
Winer. Spring.
Only to smash
head first into
a summer that
refues to let go.
98 degrees in October.
People seem to think
it is a mild
summer. There
is no such thing
where I live.
At least not for me.
I heat up,
like a boiling pot
spilling all over
the stove.
My eyes take on
a pained & glassy
haze belying (revealing)
the crazed state
in which
I’m pinned.

(1899 was much
the same, from
what I’ve read
people were half
mad.)

10/18/99