I fear I melt
Like an enormous unwanted ice cream
Dripping sweat
Beyond the ken of tissues or towels
Stewing in the juice
Of exertion
Head lifted to hunt for the breeze
Mechanically engineered from above
Down air ducts
Tucked away unseen
Useless tubes that are ineffectual
Because the doors to the balcony are open
Here in this airless café
The air conditioner wrestles
To cool all of Malta
Instead of hot melting me
I sit outraged
That steaming helps vegetables
Keep fresh and crisp
But reduces me to a sodden mass
Baked outside
Beaten within
The doors are automatic
Beyond my ability to close
Like much of life
We have very little control
Except to record our vitriol
Our objections to it all
To sit in silent sullen sogginess
Recording rancid rants in roasting rage
