laments

The kind of day that makes me want to play dead. 
It's raining superheated steam and the world out is a hamam and the prospects of taking the bitch out for a walk in this weather which feels like stepping out in molten syrup is a feeling most obnoxious not least because it feels selfish but also because it plays havoc with my well being.
The body refuses to make friends with high humidity levels and as soon as I realize my face has melted into my shoes is when I speed back before fainting into a puddle.
I don't mind the burn, I don't mind the sizzle. I do however hate the melting and unworthy fizzle. 
What's a good time for a walk I ask?
At night they say..but that is my time to do nothing on the sofa. My time to read a bit, gawk and while away the few minutes I have to myself.
Is there no middle way?
 a time when the winds aren't sodden with moisture when the sun has left the bay and heat doesn't sting with pinpricks of burning cinders?
Ah yes, there is a time, except that I don't have the time for it.
Most regrettable this situation. 

bark woof

The dog black males me
with her doe eyes
unwavering in her trust
that I'm the one
who is the universe
the benefactor messiah
always looking out
for her hunger and need
petting her stomach
after a fateful feed
who offers cools comforts
and promises no wrong
who is the one and only
morning to dawn
now, what do I tell her?
Let me work
stop wagging your tail
it's not time yet
don't stare at me
with those deer eyes pet
because I feel like a monster
who pays no heed
to her desires and wishes
and suffering even perhaps
it breaks my heart
to watch her nearly beg
for something as basic as a walk
a solemn need to go places
no needs for small talk
it's hot my darling
your tiny feet
will hurt my starling
let it get a bit dark
and we'll go on a romp
to your favourite park.