Yes, For All The Good It Will Do, Call 911
So be thankful. The equinox is immanent,
another season, a summer, that just had to end.
We complained, but had been patient,
just presented our grievances to the Municipality.
The mayor intervened, stood on the steps;
Shrugged her shoulders, said they would do what they could.
That’s similar to what she claimed
when, to no avail, I had first requested they build a dog park.
Well, that’s local politics.
Still, that season is over. It had been a torment. But it’s over.
Undoubtedly it is partly our imagination
and the fact that we still use the Fahrenheit scale;
Elsewhere the temperature is 38 degrees,
while, to us, it is over 100.
Even the dog was discomforted, moved restlessly from place to place,
ran from one shady spot to another, at all costs
avoiding the sun; peering at us
with his “are you crazy?” expression,
his tongue hanging out, practically dragging on the pavement.
And then there is the air conditioner.
Its sounds were like groans,
like some creature that thought
it was having a heart attack, like we should call
911, or the Public Service people
to start an IV.
Really! It was a season that just had to end, surely
some mere matter of hypersensitivity, but
we are all at one with this:
Me. The dog. The thermostat.
We demand it! Right now! Immediatement!
And next year, I think, I’ll rent
a cottage at the North Pole,
or some other place, like the planet Pluto,
where there are fewer hydrocarbons.