Come Along and Fry

The day sizzled, sinking its

teeth of heat into unprotected flesh,

as well as all the other bathers

who felt a need to lose their minds

upon sand hotter than a

turned-up frying pan,

ocean waves flinging angry eyes

at the temp, fish struggling

for deeper waters --

my turn to escape, seek respite

hide a clammy back –

tongue starving for a cool one.

I can feel it already

lacing down my throat

scraping away the dryness

erasing the beast of beach-heat.

Pull into driveway – race up

the stairs, bulldoze into the kitchen

opening fridge to grab a coolest

of cool, hand trembling

for a frigid bottle and, what the…

hot tootsies, forgot to put beer

in the fridge last night.