Ode to a High Pressure System

A strong high pressure ridge dominates,
It lies south of the state and punishes us.
Its so-called ‘moderate to fresh E/NE winds’
Are in reality, a form of climatic torture.

The central and southern parts of the state,
Can expect flies and heat with little relief in the evenings
Whoever said the desert gets cold at night was wrong
For it never gets cold in February here.

Expect fine conditions for this region,
Fine that is if you like the heat and dust.
Fine is a poor word for the weather,
‘Clear’ might seem more accurate to most.

They reckon isolated showers or drizzle,
That’ll be the patchy stuff down south.
Near and east of Israelite Bay, clearing by noon.
Sucks to be them – humid AND hot.

‘High over the bight” how I loathe thee,
Where is our tropical low that brings relief?
Or those sweeping low pressure ridges,
Which bring us the rain?

Summer ends this week,
So we are told by calendars.
I bet that bloody high ignores,
The dictates of the Gregorian.

37, 37, 38 too hot,
The words evaporate.
Sticky keys and apathy
Now dominate.

High.
High?
Low!
How the high makes you feel so slow.