Thinks of a colder beer

but funny that I don’t smell like the sea,

It’s a condition of being
especially in the humidity
and I still don’t smell like the sea.

This is the couple of hours after noon,
I am deathwatch weary
everyone commiserates and
nobody sees me,
I’m on my way home.

Beads of sweat
somewhat like a rosary
dripping down off me
I cross myself religiously
and count to ten.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.