Hot Summer

In the City of Brotherly Love
There continues to be no love between us. The sun is at it's zenith.

From it's intensity there is no where to run. Heat melting the asphalt streets.
Fire hydrants agape as kids have fun, play and compete.

Sidewalks aflame from heated uprisings, shars from broken bottles on hot concrete. Hot Summer in the city. A city without pity.

Philadelphians, not missing a beat, continue to shed tears. Living, dying, crying in fear on bloodstained urban streets.

Even during the depths of winter the escaping energy from dead bodies seem to heat the streets. It repeats in fall, winter and spring.

Habib Abu Lateef

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Hot Summer