Poem-A-Day: Day 240

Warming Up to Me

Sweet sweaty masterpiece,
some strange work of art
laughing directly at my face.
If this piece is fictitious
I shall destroy it.
I shall tear down the wall,
the world,
and all undesirable notions
that have somehow come
to stand before me
like tin soldiers
wielding axes
instead of flying
on trophied wings.
The hot, hot heat
hitting hard from where I hear,
but not noting what it is,
I soon forget to think
and I begin to wonder
if it was for the best...
for some hot and sweaty disaster
that has become the me
in my place of lacking movement.
The heat is less than the unbearable,
and I have reached acceptance.