posted on January 23, 2010 at 6:38 am

at 9 a.m. its 90 degrees in my kitchen
at 11 a.m. its 110 on my balcony
incessant merciless heat all around ya
your humble correspondent feels a little irradiated
i have cold showers and for for 5 minutes i freeze a little
you hop out feel good for a second
then it starts
the heat
oh god the heat reminds me i’m an englishman after all
the heat is poisonous and vile
everything glows like dully polished lead
my head throbs with the past
with the claustrophobic feeling of being shut up in here
with being fried alive inside my skull
one million hot days
one million hot nights
the memory recoils
the impressions are superimposed on my consciousness by the past
the past yeah baby the past
the past we cannot get our heads out of
except to poke our beak into the future
the engines heat up
machines heat up to pump out the tepid cold ac
the path’ll burn yer feet mister
you better step into the shade lady
the sun is gonna scorch your almonds
i’m up to my eyeballs in heat
frittering away my fucking time being as usual
wonder if this?
wonder if that?
i try to take in some details for ya
but the light bangs around in my retinae
bastard weather no good weather evil weather
the clouds gather
but the sun out trumps the storm for a while
we go to the beach
and i drop off family and find a park miles away
as i walk back along the ultra posh and beautiful street
i sing the long n winding road
the houses are just so lovely they fill me with a furious envy
a stupid discontented envy
the houses have such lovely leafy gardens n facing the harbour
fountains pools tennis courts gazebos arbours exotica statues
the houses are the sizes of small hotels
its like a cross between monaco and a hollywood on the sea
every fucking car is either a beemer or jag or merc or lex
sorry i did see a bentley
oh and my falcon of course
who sits in the park waiting for me
my obedient if lowly slave
the falcon has been running well
gee it uses a loada juice if you put the ac on
but it dont heat up like tibor mk1
(yet anyway)
down at the beach
the heat is unbelievable
i sit on a concrete step
and when the sun comes out
its like your skins being peeled off
the doodles n woofle are straight in the water
its very very crowded today
someone was getting married…picked a warm day
imagine dressed up in all that clobber in 110 heat
thats fucking 44 or something in cels
hope the groon doesnt get his wedding tackle overheated
meanwhile i don my swimming cap n goggles
i don my rashie and my earplugs
n i hit the green brine
netted off from the sharky sharks
its a harbour beach not the ocean
i do about half a k
theres soft jellyfish like the fig jelly in bubbletea….hmmmm
have to say nk looked good in her turquoise rashie
the water brings my temp n my anger into check
i go n have a cold shower in the sheds
walk back to car
thru those tantalizing houses
oh they fill me with longing
oh i could truly appreciate living in a nice house the resta my days
sitting out in my brilliant landscaped doo dah sipping a what not
look if there are any millionaires out there
buy me a house
its not much to ask for
a nice little mansion of my own with trees pool drive n all the trimmings
a gardener a butler a man at arms
a cook a cleaner and a procurer of naughty things
oh yes wouldnt i be happy
oh i would just stay home in my house
walking from room to cool room
my billiard room
my trophies room (pretty darn empty)
my smoking room
my dining room
my master bedroom with on sweet
my harbour views from the second story treetops
anyway its just a thought
if you ever wanted to buy someone a little p(a)lace
i could be a candidate……couldnt i…..
meanwhile i find tibor 2
we drive home
i do yoga
a little storm comes along
there is some feeling of release
not enough tho
but dark clouds are building up to the south
we hope for a cleansing n thorough downpour
down on us poor
i’m not getting any work done
i’m distracted edgy restless listless
my white powder of gold drink has not worked out for me
ive ordered another brand off the net
andrew hmelnitzky asks to paint moi for the archibald prize
austs biggest portrait comp
have to be a distinguished australian (resident)
imagine if my portrait wins
everyone will recognize me as i buy my fruit n veg at the shop
fuck it could be worse…
but i bet i dont win
i bet no millionaire buys me a bleating house
i bet the big deluge kinda peters out
theres thunder rumblin’ n everything
but i aint got my hopes up
i’m boiling here
i’m cooking alive
i’m sizzling like the bridegroons sausage down the beach
i’m way way way too hot

24 Responses to “burner”

    Error thrown

    Call to undefined function ereg()