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
Enjoyable read, thank you for sharing
You’re welcome, glad you liked it 🙂 .
Lo lux
and no luck
the undeluxe
and all that mucky-muck
Blaaaaaa! Heh-heh! ☺👍
Ha ha. I feel like that most days 🙂 .
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.
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. 🙂
Whew. Meltdown. Such a freedom of words. “A fantasy I believed in for a while.”
Perhaps a bit too free, BG, and possibly too honest, but it’s tremendous fun to write, not to mention when the odd reader enjoys it, *odd* not *odd* 🙂
Whatever you’re on, I want some.
Well, it might be the radioactive mangoes, or the Pinot Grigio, or that vial of elixir I found in the meteor crater and drank because I was thirsty. But one thing I know, Jeni, is that you don’t need it 🙂 , love your work, Steve.
HA! – thank you.
It’s hard to stay in love on days over 40C especially if she pinched the last of the ice cold beer.
🙂 This is a circumstance so tragic I cannot even begin to imagine it. Please accept my heartfelt sympathy.
The ending was a surprise. “Without you.” It made me sad. “A fantasy I believed in for awhile.” “Low Res.” I feel badly for this narrator’s melt-down. But I loved it.
Very pleased to hear that (sorry). I’m always looking for that resonance, the human temperature was falling and the last line felt right to me, but I was concerned about the cliché ‘without you.’ The risk is that clichés can make the writing flat with no depth or resonance.
Thanks so much for letting me know 🙂 .
It didn’t feel cliche at all in that context.
WOW your on fire today! I loved it, completely. BRAVO
Thanks, I better get an extinguisher … or some marshmallows.