92 Dog Days of Summer
Summer sounds like the growl of my 1990 Honda Civic hatch; like the strong gust that pushes in through the “oven” window, cause although we’ve got AC, it ain’t worth the price of fixin’. Nostalgically we can almost lick the freedom of the open road; that hot blacktop that permeates the air. We are...smitten...with the stereo on. That’s when we’re driving, cause when we’re home, there is only the symphony of frogs and crickets and yapping neighbors; the humid flavor of the night and whispers of the mosquito netting.... with the constant panting of the ceiling fan above.