Rotting corpses

I think it was Wednesday, I was returning to work after lunch. I had a stomach full of good food, I had the windows rolled down for the cool breeze, and I had Apocalyptica cranked up. When I pulled in and turned off the engine, I looked at the building and I just had this urge to continue driving. There was no specific destination, just the need to enjoy a warm afternoon. But being a good wage slave, I got out and returned to work.

Since then I’ve been working on a poem about the experience. The working title is “An Afternoon’s Execution.” It starts with the condemned – with a full belly – walking towards the gallows. He enters and “The door closed like a guillotine / leaving him trapped with the stench / of rotting corpses of sunny afternoons.”

Ever since I came up with “rotting corpses of sunny afternoons,” a part of my mind has been bugging me saying it sounded familiar. Today, while returning to work on another “condemned” sunny afternoon, I remembered what it reminded me of. It’s from the education film “Global Warming or: None Like it Hot!” from the Futurama episode “Crimes of the Hot.”

My brain just works that way.

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