Too Lazy To Move

When the summer sun cuts through your curtain,

Blinds can’t hold it back. The room is filled

With sweltering heat, sweat dribbles and drops

From your brow to the ground, sticky and hot

You roll from your sheets, naked and flushed

Cheeks bellow in protest –the window stays shut

The wasps they buzz, busy bodies they buzz.

When the summer sun cuts, it’s slow.

At the pit of the stomach, the lower half
Of the torso grows soft and softer still,

You refuse to open too. The outside

Clear skies beat unheard by your ears

Behind glass the fast rhythms of summer,

Of busy bodies with warm orange glows.

The wasps they buzz, busy bodies they buzz.

When the summer sun lays waste the will

To leave, to stay, to do, you stay –no retention

of guilt for days gone to waste. The sweat drops.

The air smells better beyond the closed door,

But permission is granted, lay back in bed
Back to window –how hot, still shut– don’t look!

The wasps they buzz, busy bodies they buzz.