my attic office
sweating. it’s 95 degrees
outside but a little cooler
in the attic, which surprises me.
drips from my
scalp, trickles down my
forehead, through thinning eyebrows, onto
my eyelids, stinging my weary eyes.
my shirt against
the black office chair
sports a huge wet circle,
growing bigger as I write this.
leaks, drips, dampens,
saturates, already soggy cotton
undergarments, a linen top, pair
of capris, glued to wet skin.
4 thoughts on “240/365 Drenched”
Ugh. What about the air conditioning?
(And I thought it was going to take a turn there, with sweat running down between your boobs, but you took the classier direction, of course.)
I have a window unit in the attic, but it is really loud and my workday had ended. I endured the sweat for artistic purposes. By the time I got to writing about my neck I was ready to head to the cooler part of the house.
Almost that hot in Vermont…so much sweat. Nice.
These nights refuse to cool down. Read your poem while sweating…seems perfect to me!