damascus in a heatwave

I was going to take a walk
then I thought maybe a book
somehow I find I’m here

it’s hard to settle down
there’s nothing that appeals
I squirm to avoid oppression

and the indecisive day goes by
whatever risks exposure
until a darkened room is all that’s left
a darkened room and air-con
set to fan and mighty boy
both whistling banshee

I’m the exhaustion
of a limp damp rag
the rat-tail of a mop
left to dangle

a prayer
I am epiphanous
on the edge of sanity
contemplating survival
through another night
that will not cool

and the solution starts
intoned like a plea

of a higher order

o lord

o lord

© Frank Prem, 2009


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