Likely fry in hellish Phoenix—heat is risin’.
You might die—so hot; what did you come here for?
Seething gasps, asphalt streets, straining heart, serious grievin’.
You had best go find an air-conditioned store.

Damn! This makes you pine for Albuquerque as you’re slurpin’
up an aqueous great big bunch. . .
pours out and down chests falls.
You should stop, but you keep right on drinkin’
and don’t stall. . .Nature’s call.

And by the time you’re slaked, then ohmygod! you need peein’;
you squirm, then do something that you’d avowed
you’d never try—that is become a wall leaker,
but primed, you’re primed; it’s time to let it go. And so
emptied of “de pee” eau, you guzzle down some mo’.

Then some mo’ you have to go.