on front porch swing,
dressed in white,
in the sweltering heat,
i feel like
Burl Ives
in an old movie.
black and white.
i start talking with a southern
drawl,
as we sip our
lemonade.
she fans herself with a
magazine, and whispers
to herself,
oh my God.
she truly believes
she could have been a movie
star.
we're lazy
and hot.
we're two peas in a pod
melting in the July
sun.
we can't even muster
an ounce
of energy to swat a fly,
or get up.
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