The Last of Summer

Fresh, black, glutinous in the heat,
Newly laid tarmac hangs in the air
Outside the hermetically sealed windows.
I slip out of my equally sealed safety boots
Into flip-flops to leave,
And wade
Out into the treacle-thick humidity
Just as the first
Languid drops of rain
Fall...
Sizzling on the still-smouldering asphalt.
They hit my feet and lift me up.

I turn my music off.
Joggers speed up to find shelter.
A person smelling of ointment
Cycles slowly and with determination
Towards the hospital.

Walking towards the station with
Slippery clay-grey feet.
People bicker outside the takeaway,
Scowling at the weather,
But I smile.
Just another asshole in the rain.

I need consequences to function well.
Purpose. Timelines.
But today rain will do.