Swedish Summer with no A/C – A poem

The miniscule electric fan heaves

to push tiny breaths of air into the sweltering abode

Beads of sweat pour down my neck

As I wrap my lengthening hair in my dollar store hair clip

The computer – overheated!

The television – overheated!

The iPad – overheated!

The intricate systems were never meant to suffer this cruel roasting

“What shall I do?”  I weep into the kitchen.

“Open me”, whispers the ice box in my ear.

Mint Chocolate ice cream

We meet again.