Humid and still. 11:47 PM.

It was the hottest day on earth today.
I suppose, looking up at sparkling Venus,
if I travelled there, I’d be able to marvel at
the film of heat trembling
inches above this paved-over planet.
At the same time, I suppose, a person driving
through a night like this over the asphalt
that edges Lake Ontario between Toronto
and the northern tip of New York,
would spot another Pluto,
a continuous winter named,
every once in a while, as a planet belonging
to our solar system then one night,
all of a sudden, regarded as a corpse
of an endless drain, which the driver
would deny, when queried at the border,
ever having seen before.