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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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