Old Poem: Heat

Thematically, this poem is somewhat similar to Hooked, though it isn't about sexual longing (though one might argue that "wanting to share the tub" could be read salaciously).  Like Hooked, it was written by a young poet who wanted to go off to the big city, but whose urban experiences were all second-hand.  Even in New York, there are almost no rooming houses where the bathroom is shared, so I guess it is more retro than anything.  While this was not directly inspired by anything that happened to me, in my senior year in college, I was living in a group house where four of us on one floor shared a bathroom.

Heat

She sent soap back
but arrived before the box.
She can imagine the cool sides of the tub tonight, 
signaling it offers the only relief 
from the summer heat.
She doesn’t want to bathe;
she fears even the water
would start boiling
as the outdoors forced its way inside 
through the open window.
And the box with the soap 
is still buried 
under a dozen other boxes.
She slips out of my room
and climbs into the tub,
pressing her skin flat against its surface. 
She hears other doors,
others with the same idea
wanting to share the tub.
She locks the door.
She sinks deeper,
wishing she could sleep,
knowing she can not drown.