Poetry

The Pride Before, 15 (228.)

It finally happened,
the AC guy came by yesterday,
oh yay,
and now I’ve gone back to
typing very slow
and wearing long pants
and wondering if I should put a hoodie on,
gods damn it,
I wasn’t, like, super messed up by
the incessant heat,
I’d just sweat a little more than usual,
and now I’m fucking freezing …
again.
One can already hear the clouds speaking to one another:
“Oh, there he goes again, he’s not
very happy, is he?”
“No, it doesn’t seem like it.”
Hey, I like you, clouds,
but you can mind your own business.
Y’all change depending on
which way the wind is blowing
and how hard it’s going,
so uh,
let’s just agree
that we’re all fickle
and do the best we can to be content, right?
I’m all right.
The AC is working again, I don’t need to sweat,
and I
can put on extra clothes if I’m cold.
Thank God I love layers.

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