SUMMER HEAT

it was a chicago summer
in the late 50's
so hot you could fry an egg on concrete
the acrid air smelled of the stockyards
on halsted street
the dead carcass smell got in my throat
and made it raw
and we kept the apartment windows closed up
blinds shut
shades drawn like a tomb
'til sundown
no cooking allowed
only bologna sandwiches
peanut butter and jelly
or spam
'cause it was too hot
i played outside
drank water from the water hose
and i didn't die
played baseball from dawn 'til dusk
sometimes got lucky with a dime
and bought an ice cold coke
or old dutch root beer
the windows were opened at night
a whisper of wind sometimes came in
the stagnant humidity made sleep difficult
i took a tepid bath
and lay myself down
in front of a tattered sceen door
hoping for sleep before the water evaporated
air conditioning was'nt owned by many people
we survived
and raised bratty kids
who never shut the lights off
and left doors open
so "con" edison makes extra git
i think of the good old days
and realize how bad they really were.