what's playing

it's going to be a hot
day, she says, swatting a fly
with her
slipper, missing.
I can feel the heat already,
don't you.
it's summer, I say to her.
it's still august,
we have a long ways to go.
she lifts her hair
up with her hands,
stacking the curls on top
of her head.
fanning herself
with the slipper still in her
hand.
maybe we can go to the pool
today.
but it seems too hot even for
that, or to a movie.
buy a tall drink
and sit in the cool shade
of air conditioning.
what's playing?
who cares, we can sit in the back
row and hold hands,
put our feet up
and let the hot day go by without
us in it.