heat (for blair)

a poet friend (we'll call him blair) has something to say about heat, but i...i don't know what to say about heat.

it's winter. i can say that.

i can say that it's been noted that even in new jersey winters landlords only have to keep apartment temperatures at 62. 62. is there heat in 62?

blair is going to a few funerals this weekend because of the reality of heat--or its absence. in this winter. in that new jersey. how hot is that?

heat rises.

and when the people rise up...there's heat in that.

heat expands.

sometimes heat hides in unlikely and unlocatable places. sometimes heat doesn't hide at all. pow. right in the kisser the people, their heat, on the way up...somewhere. or rrrrrrrrrrrrr. when the bodies force heat from squeaky crumbling oppressive pipes they squeeze out the cold. or aaaaaaaah. the small comfort of cold hands cross woven with warm hands.

body heat saves.

i can say that where there is heat there is also fire.