My therapist called it “climate despair”

& I’m having a hard time being perceived. In public,

I puddle into the nearest corner. In private, I fidget

my fingers as I cancel the 5th plan this week. There are

no commercials in the midst of burning. When I awoke

this morning, I told my heart to stop talking. Light

shone through my window & all 110 degrees were

the same thing. I walk to the store & a fight breaks out.

I walk back home & my mind goes missing. Dizziness pins me

to the pavement like Black boys when cop cars are too close.

There are no commercials in the midst of fat-backed TVs

playing me, losing consciousness, on loop. Heat follows me

to the ER like a name somebody else chose. Heavy eyelids

are an insult to injury. Tomorrow morning I embrace

the hospital bed like isolation during the worst heatstorm

in history till I turn my head to mama. Be lucky the laws were hot

or you would’ve burned to death. There are no commercials

in the cartoon we call US. Remove the memorized

guide from my brain.