The Mantra of the Air Con

The mantra of the air con

When I call on it to brisk me

Wakeful eyes stare at bedroom skies

It comes alive with wishing sounds

Of the coolest oscillation in my head

The smooth machine friendly bed partner

When I'm alone with the light red

Oh it is winding up the spiral helix

Rising the whistle of excitement

As I lie grabbing anything too cold

To not let me fall through the soggy bottom

Of lukewarm loneliness and despondency

Sharing the platform with freedom and liberty

Going hand in hand with my singularity

How wonderful it would feel to wrap

My arms around your wing'ed flaps

Touch your goosebumped body

As air con envelops us in a cocoon

Makes us smooth, sleek

Your breath in my ear not cold or metallic

But pleasing and steady with regular humanity

The steady hum of the air con turns me on

Back up through the stages I descend

Cool air heights of the pen in hand

Living in the moment of something grand

Bent on a bench where everything is

All right will be all right all day all night

With the air con on making it bright

No longer suffering in one hundred degrees

melting in the heated drip of solitude and despair

Or realizing no one is there

but Buddha burning red dust off

my sweat drenched solitude

Air con on humming the mantra song

buzzing my delirium away

May 20, 2021

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