kind of like how eventual death justifies smoking cigarettes

liquid sleep gel tablets sliding gently down a dry throat
the man enveloped in the summer heat
essentially palpable heat
humid air also stale and biting
like the atmosphere was made from grass clippings
like the air itself was converging maliciously at his position
the sun raging up in the morning like a buzzard circling the dead planet
spotting the tracks in the sand
peaking over a nearby breakfast restaurant
the man will wake up and stretch and piss
and things will be more or less the same tomorrow