peripheral heating

eucalypt_ice_dream_s

I pour a glass of water, try the hot and cold,
but it doesn’t make a difference, only steam today.
My hair’s dissolved as well, or perhaps
I just misplaced it long ago.

The fridge has flown out through the kitchen
window, appliances in
migratory flocks are traveling north,
and I’ve put my ice cream
in the oven, no need for any baking.

From the cupboards,
the china syndrome,
molten cups and saucers
burning through the plastic
bench tops.

On the table, mangoes clustered
in a bowl are going troppo,
emitting nuclear
mango particles, a conga chain reaction
approaching criticality.

They form a foggy pink and yellow
illusion,
mushroom-shaped,
exploding all around me.

I must escape to safety—winter words on an icy page
about a TV movie, a screen
with imitation heat,
actors feigning fleeing from midsummer,
perfect with their beaded tears,
precision sweat,
a fantasy I believed in for a while.

But now the images are melting,
trickling from the frame
and everything’s low res.

Reality might be burning, it’s hard to tell
without calor humano    in pixelated grey    without you.


about
china syndrome, sincere apologies; Harry Nilsson’s song; calor humano, Portuguese, no exact translation, something about heat and people 🙂 .

artwork
eucalypt and ice dream

18 thoughts on “peripheral heating

  1. The poem is sort of an echo of wintery unidentifiable moods and feelings, interesting.
    We have still January 20th where I am, and I was watching the presidential inauguration for the most part of the day. I practically never watch TV, but today I did. I feel as if it’s Christmas, but it’s spring outdoors. Such a warm winter so far, unbelievable; and this poem somehow resonated with all these very difficult to describe feelings. I like the image, too.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Inese. Here in Sydney we’ve had some very hot summer days, approaching 40C, and I started off thinking about that, but drifted into our internal weather, which is quite different. Same with the artwork, the original photo I took on a very hot day in bushland. I really appreciate your description–resonating with feelings that are hard to put into words–I’d love to do more of that. 🙂

      Like

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