The sun burns a hole

The sun burns a hole

Through the ozone

An affected reflection

Inciting the blue

With the sedition

Of mutiny

In every shadow

Underlying the reason

For shelter

When the wind blows

A sirocco

Full of desert scraps

Along the esplanade

A parade of gleaming

Oldsmobiles and Buicks

With more than a whiff

Of reproduction

About them,

Stuffed full of

Bald headed men

Wearing plaid shirts

Spewing lead-filled fumes

Into the furnace

Stoking it up for pleasure

Pink skinned

Ladies hide their

Disgust beneath

Martini umbrellas

Whilst sipping a Pimms

Number one cup

And Cockatoos

Squall a warning

To the walkers

Bustling toward shade

For a kool-aid

And air con

As mad dogs and Englishman

Trundle along

In blissful ignorance

Of skin damage

Dreaming of Glastonbury

Nudity and mudslides

New cells multiply

In rampant confusion

Cancer is a dancer

Stealing the spotlight

The last one standing

In a marathon,

Roadrunners

Try to keep one step ahead

Of the Peloton

Middle-aged men

In lycra

Will never smell as sweet

As Rose

In the wide-brimmed hat

Who cocks her nose

At leather-clad boys

Who should have

Woken up

Before they rode

A Harley

As a dream machine

Past fifty

In the dog days

Of a heat haze