Summer in the City

Walking down the street is like
Walking through molasses
The air is so thick and heavy
It rests upon you like a mantle
Heat and smog blood and sweat
And the stench of the thousand bodies
Pressing, surging up the street
A living river of slick flesh
The street grit sticks to the back of your neck
And your heart is the acid sunset
Bruised purple, orange, gold