Humidity drooling all over, sundog light
jumping us, tongues and tails banging,
we're wiping the – wuddyacallit – spittle off
while we stumbledown 42nd Street praying
air conditioners are on in the museum of
phony celebrities, being cool a cheerer upper
until the power goes and we die of heat
and boredom, counting the hours like aspirin
doled out one-by-one into our palms,
clock hands limp as warm lettuce, straining
to move a tick, but giving up, like time has its feet
glued to the sidewalk of Times Square, gooey
hot gum playing off-Broadway, you, incognito
in your movie-star shades, my corny jokes,
Spiderman thumbs a cigarette like it’s holy,
record heat spinning viral, vinyl, nerves,
needles jumping tracks in the city’s groove.
Selfie-stick. Selfie-sticky. Selfie-stuck.
For Shay’s Word Garden
qbit 
I so enjoyed the wonderful word-play in this poem. And the stellar imagery, as always. I especially love “counting out the hours like aspirin.” ” One feels the intense heat, the clock struggling to move its hands “limp as warm lettuce”.
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Thank you!!
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Annnd, your roll continues! I love the description of the hours, all the cool imagery and celeb bs, and especially the ending. Verah cooool, dahlink!
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Hahaha, great! Glad you liked it.
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Such good heat conjuring. It’s winter here but I still felt limp in all that humidity!
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Hahaha! Thanks!
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pick me up, wring me out .. sounds like you might know the drill. Stellar write!
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Thanks!!
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YAY!!!! brought a smile to my face. a real one!
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