Excessive Heat

We lay prostrate to the growing heat
that swells up,
suffocating
with all its weight pressing down,
and pushing in -
my lungs are inflamed;
there must be some Relief...
Relief from mercury and Mars,
from the rain men
who control the weather
like gods perched on high;
Relief from the stench
of stagnant air
and lazy immobility.
There is no shelter anymore;
we are exposed
to the elements that surround -
from this ungodly swelter,
there MUST be some Relief.
Perhaps come November
when the wind shifts stream.