Living Life in Hot Flashes

a sprint to the cold floor;
an ice cube on a warm day
 

or a burn up the sides
of your face
that feeling that everyone
is watching
but you’re alone in your room
 

that slip on the linoleum
and the look look look
and the squirm
and the no-good kids
standing too close
looking too shy
 

but those hot flash days
are too many
and the cool down pool days
are sinfully few
and they just keep slipping
out of my fingers
like water threw sand
sinking back into the ocean
 

and when I walk back
from that empty place
all barefooted
and painted toes
the side walk burns
and I just try to run
but my breath won’t hold
and it’s all
choke
on
the
words
 

like that day I put that
cold metal to my too hot
temples
and my brains
melted like acid threw the floor
 

but that’s a lie
my brains
really sizzled
like a thousand pops and snaps

singing a lullaby
"Goodnight baby"
“It’s too hot to sleep tonight”
 

but the no-good kids didn’t like it
and heck neither did I
and all the time they were screaming
“too much too much”
and I didn’t know what to do
 

so I sat in that pool of sizzling acid
and tried to put all the pieces together
without using lots of tape
but maybe I shouldn’t have skimped
cause it just wouldn’t fit
 

but no one noticed anyhow
and those hot flash days seem a little
cooler now
without all that over thinking