It's Hot or Doggerel Days (Unpub)

     (8/1)
It’s hot! (Tres hot: 
luke warm it's not.) 
Ann Miller got 
it: "...too darn hot!"
 
     (8/2)
Da's AC's shot.
Ma's…? Gone to pot. 
Cole Porter'd jot 
it: "...too darn hot!"
 
     (8/3)
It's hot! (Think not…? 
Ya'll don't know squat.)
So-o-o-o hot one's snot 
tends not to clot.
 
     (8/4)
One's nose approx-
imates a Brät, 
while lucid thoughts 
turn most exot-
 
     (8/5)
-ic: dream scenes fraught 
with Lancelot 
and Ladies of 
Shalott, Mahat-
 
     (8/6)
-ma Gandhi, An-
dy Kohut, Lot-
te Lenya, di-
va Montserrat
 
     (8/7)
Caballé, sheiks 
who reek of rot-
ten leeks in oil
of Bergamot,
 
     (8/8)
or Benoit
B. Mandelbrot 
(whose fractal "aht" 
I like a lot).
 
     (8/9)
Be you quadru-
ple bi-pass’d tot; 
be you the Hoo-
ple or the Mott;
 
     (8/10)
don pinstripe, check 
or polka dot; 
inhab McMansh 
or vacant lot;
 
     (8/11)
prefer weak tea 
or pepper pot 
(if tea, ami, 
that says a lot);
 
     (8/12)
be sri or sultan, 
late of Swat, 
prefer straight lace 
or gordian knot;
 
     (8/13)
be you robot-
ic or karat-
e maven -- you
may need a shot --
 
     (8/14)
if not, at least 
some bottled wat'... 
("Of what…?" you quer-
-y.) Water, twat!
 
     (8/15)
("Oo-o-o-oops! Just the flu-
id I'd forgot.") 
Who's else is hot 
(though Turandot...
 
     (8/16)
is not)…? Why, Rob-
ert Falcon Scott 
of the Antarc-
tic: "...'Sbloody hot!"
 
     (8/17)
Who else is hot…?
Hell's Margey Schott, 
pro-Nazi sot: 
"Mein Gott! Ich's hot!"
 
     (8/18)
(Who else is hot…? 
Anwar Sadat.) 
My cot, though in
a shady spot,
 
     (8/19)
feels, lately, like
a lobster pot: 
it makes me wish 
I'd got a yacht...
 
     (8/20)
or could lay hands 
on your garrotte. 
At least, thank god,
I  need not trot...
 
     (8/21)
(tho' true, I do, 
more oft than not). 
But why's it hot? 
Have you forgot?
 
     (8/22)
 America's 
a "melting pot." 
In any case, 
there lies this spot --
 
     (8/23)
it’s but a blot, 
a teensy dot – 
a beauty spot quite 
comely…? Not!) --
 
     (8/24)
upon die Son-
ne...done! It's hot. 
(Or, like as not, 
some knotty plot...
 
     (8/25)
of Aeroflot's,
or, p'rhaps, Pol Pot's.) 
Kool-Aid, it's said's, 
verboten: "...Dot-
 
     (8/26)
-dot-dot-dash-dash-
dash-dot-dot-dot..."* 
Yet, 'til the Trane
Man states he's got...
 
     * Mr. Morse's code for 'S.O.S.'
 
     (8/27)
our S.O.S, it's 
still hot, wot! 
Some cooler spot 
to plant one's "bott"…?
 
     (8/28)
You'll find no tit-
tle -- not one jot. 
Say...is it me 
or is it not...
 
     (8/29)
just that much hot-
ter since I sta't-
ed jotting
this Ode De Hot…?
 
     (8/30)
It's hot! So what…? 
There's simply "not-“
hing to be done...
but kvetch alot.
 
     (8/31)
Cole got it right: 
It’s too darn hot. 
(Ol' Cole's a rot-
ter: too damn hot!)
 
     (9/1)
How's 'bout some cool 
September song…? 
(September In The 
Rain’s not long.