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Patrick A Granfors

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  Stinky Hot
by Patrick A Granfors
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Patrick A Granfors
•  Queen of Broken Hearts
•  Somebody Blinked
•  Drink About It
•  Bend
•  Dominos
           >> View all 528


Dog Days of Summer


I walked out onto my back deck

Thermometer one hundred eight

I’m not a big fan of the heat

And this wave just won’t abate

 

Poor old blue jay panting air

Trying his best to stay cool

Put some water in the birdbath

For a little birdie kiddie pool

 

Hopped across the driveway

Scorched my two bare feet

Burned both cheeks of my big fat ass

When they stuck to my car seat

 

I grabbed a hold of the steering wheel

My fingers burst into flame

My sweat steamed up the windshield

It’s the weather girl that I blame

 

Good old Jackie Big Jugs

TV weather vamp

Promised us a cool down but

She’s one bulb short in her lamp

 

I can read a weather chart

I understand lows and highs

But her forecast’s not convincing

While she flashes us her thighs

 

Now don’t misunderstand me

Better her than some old goat

Because no matter who they put there

The chance of accuracy is remote

 

In the meantime I’m drinking fluids

Not the kind they recommend

I may not get my cool down

But it helps me to pretend.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2010 Patrick Granfors

 




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Reviewed by Ronald Hull
That was cool and refleshing... after the burns healed.

Ron
Reviewed by Christine Tsen
this is clever ~
And you are so hilarious!!!
I can't stand it, just hilarious!!!
Cheers,
Christine
Reviewed by David Maclellan
Very droll Patrick, lol, "I grabbed a hold of the steering wheel My fingers burst into flame" don't you just hate that! We wear welding gloves in summer down under when entering the furnace of a locked car, lol, very funny Pat, but I feel for you.
my best regards,
David
Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater
"Because no matter who they put there
The chance of accuracy is remote"

Love,
Sage
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
The has been the worst Summer I remember I can relate with your poem. Humorous but all too true!!
Reviewed by D Johnson
So...what's the problem with staying inside an air conditioned house...drinking a nice cold beer?

Cheers,
Dan
Reviewed by Annabel Sheila
Aw! Poor you! It must be horrible to endure stifling heat for a prolonged period of time....at least your sense of humour is still intact! giggle......tooooo funny!

Anna
Reviewed by Mr. Ed
Try sitting in a little plastic kiddy pool with your dogs. Very refreshing, and the beer tastes even better in the pool! (The Milkbone Appetizers ain't too bad either.)
Reviewed by Paul Berube
Great write, Patrick.
Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
That's why I'm headed for Catalina Island this weekend! Water, water everywhere. They said it's supposed to drop into 70s soon. Ha, we'll see.
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
Goodness, know the feeling. Even going outside to water we have to let the hose run about a good ten minutes or we can run the risk of cooking our plants. Love the story...

Be always safe,
Karen
Reviewed by The Poetess
I so enjoy your talented humor!
Reviewed by Ed Matlack
Hope your sitting down while reading this as the temp here is but 65, at night of course but only up to the mid 80s in the daytime...just keep that hot stuff out your way as I am betting that winter is going to start early this year here in Jersey...gotta buy some insulating panels for my camper and get the old wreck ready for the cold that is surely coming...at least in the winter you stay warmer than we do, so no bitchin about the heat for now...Ed
Reviewed by Mark Lichterman
My, God, Patrick, but I feel for you guys out your way. I Just checked and, officially, it's now 104 in Westlake Village now (4:30 PM). I must say, though, it wasn't too smart hopping across your driveway in bare feet.
Mark
Reviewed by Richard King
Ha, ha, ha. Very "cool" Patrick. Fun read.... and a little eye candy never hurt anybody.... Thanks, Dick
Reviewed by Dayvid Graybill
Tipping my beer to you Patrick, on this hot and sticky day! Good humour!

Peace,
Dayvid
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