To bully the afternoon

I stare the afternoon down
A bull scraping hooves back
Snorting grotesquely
So the late sun won't get the best of me

Taking on the pre-sunset
My cover won't be sweat
I won't be discarded like some peel in the heat
Like some fruit lodged in the forked branches sweetening

I will slap the blazing brazen four o clock sun
I will dump the breeze over the city
Push the clouds about for fun
Instead of perspiring and panting while I sit