The Dance of August
by HJG
A frosty preserve
AC consuming energy
like a hungry demon
Still, I sweat
—evaporative cooling
further sacrifices for the demon
The AC battles
hundred-degree humidity
futily.
The doors are its cage
Little square panes of glass
bars on the cell
All the squares combine—
a window
to see
Hot gusty currents swirl the
leaves, shrubs, dust
Hot breath of the storm
beats on cars
Its halitosis—the smell of rain
Battling the smell of the city,
whiffs of AC excrement
Little raindrops of spittle
salivate
On the city
the building
cages of AC
prisons of humanity
We sweat, we cheer the battle
We pray for the storm to beat
Our demon AC
rendering it obsolete
Rinsing our sweat
Rinsing our city
The Dance of August
—HJG 8-10-01
