Summer madness

Summer madness has set in. It’s so hot and it rains once a day and people are swearing and the air conditioning is breaking down and it’s so damn hot and we drink cold beer from clock out to clock in like aloe vera to the burn of the summer madness.
My father is not talking to me. My roommates and I don’t speak. Every last person I’ve called I’ve also hung up on. My phone’s mostly turned off. The ones who I want to stop calling won’t and those who I want to call don’t and I’m suspended in this transitional phase lasting almost at long as the phase from which I’m transitioning
I’m a burnt phoenix whose ashes never regrouped and presented themselves as a new bird just the remains of the same old sport. No one wants to play with weathered equipment and outdated rule books.
No one argues about my rules.
And rules whether I’ve been moral or immoral, whether I’ve properly balanced my karmic guilt, whether my actions or holy or unholy, whether I juggle you and you and all of us and we somehow keep moving like the chaos directs our orbit.