Little Black Dot

today we’re breaking hot weather records.
i’m wearing black pants and a white blouse and everything is sticking.
there are hours owing at the office and this is why i’m here, now,
at seven pm on a saturday, at the receptionist’s desk instead
of my own work station. i can’t log into my files from this machine
and it’s really annoying because that means i can’t do any actual work.
and that means i will likely spend the hour and a half between now and
intermission working on my drawing of zombies encroaching on a city
bus. just as well. it’s so hot. my brain is shriveling from too much sun
and fathoming adobe indesign is a herculean effort and also probably a sure sign
of the coming apocolypse, which will be the series of which this drawing will be a part.
i wish there was a window. i wish i were in my underwear, eating ice cream.
this is what i’ll do when i get home. i can’t even remember the last time
i bought ice cream. actually, that’s a lie. it was the night of the rona murray literary awards,
afterwards, at the market. we got plastic spoons from the deli and ate it
in the graveyard beside the anglican cathedral and i told you to take the rest home
because i couldn’t fit it in my freezer. well, there we are. nothing has changed since march
except the thickening walls of ice in my fridge. and the silence. yes. well.
there’s produce in there so i can’t defrost it and also it’s too hot
to speak.