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The first day of summer attracted a crowd at the tulip festival. Smoking and drinking the crowd was wowed by the colors and hallucinated the aroma.
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Bobbies removed detritus left
By the All Saints Day Eve celebration. It was rumored that the figure was An effigy of a want-to-be elected official Of ill repute Cattle coolers shown up black and loud at 88 D.B.,
Sprayin’ water with half chilled air at naive folk for not. Never used inside a building, Much less a dwelling, Ever housed the roar. The H.V.A.C. handbook, Won’t show them as a joke or not, And nary a part of A.C. system’s psychometric chart. A more effective ploy could be soaked shirts, With motors at low RPM drivin’ fans efficiently, Movin’ air without a vibe very quietly, For max air movement happening per watt. But alas, There are no engineers inside the nest of bean counters. Oh for the love of enthalpy, And pits left cool by fans and pumps pulling heat away at pace. Og for the plight of a sweltering mass, Suffering Hotlanta, Houston and Orleans, Set free by loved A.C… The Fox Theater First cooled in Hotlanta in ‘39 on peachtree street, While pre war G.I.s watched Fantasia in technicolor and heard Tychowski in Stereo, Loud and clear from E.V. folded horns, with southern belles and ease. Hark! Now we are years four score later, And mates have yet to rate, The miracle A.C. We’ve useless T.V. though, With channels fifty three, And NFL ticket, Paid for by marketing. But mates still wait for blow-up-dolls, And bless-ed coool A.C. Oh no don’t despair! “There is no global warming!” Said the bufooon with a smirk. While the bastard of wine fetched them a perk. We’ve stayed up all night trying to
Get done ahead of time/ We’ve both put all the things away That we wish we’d thrown away We both wish we bought new Pieces We’ve both wished we’d left The best alone We both thought the best was yet To come We both got hungry eatin’ too much Of what we loved. We both helped the slowest Ones catch up behind We both at last stopped to To see too late what’s already gone Everybody wants to be a hero
Everybody wants to be on top. First one Up the pole. First on at the door First one in the line. Last one standin’. Last one to speak. |
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