Summer's Oozing Ozone Woe

To my best friend, Pamela ...

Clanging to an old and oily frigidair service,
Door tilted and leaning halfway over a
Dusty wall in the basement, hoping to
Insert the last full freon recharge can.
Light shines dimly on the struggle from
A structural portal while patches of
Sweat dribble from forehead to chin &
Run down the arm to the hand ‘til the
Grasp is dampened & the grip meets
Slippage  --  the can pops away.

Fatigued and impatient toeholds catch
An instant as airborne freon flies
Balance lost, shirt fabric tears when
Chest slips, wide eyes see the fall of
Plopping can into a hole in the wall.
Both feet bound to a skipping hop
Backward and a scraped chest
Stings as the sound of the can
Hits the bottom of the hole.
Retreating up plank stairs where
Once again a water bottle is
Filled and sprayed into the fan
Blowing down the hall.


Robert A. Flaspoehler

Copyright ©2002   ~  Robert A. Flaspoehler

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