Can'T Wait For Perfection Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Sweet, so sweet the air-con revenge: finally
the system is fixed, I'm purple and blue with
the cold in the office, everyone huddles in all
kinds of garments, we had complained a lot
and now we must suffer the blast of icy winds
and wear our warm winter minks

I can bring my rose-petal top I had despaired
of never wearing and this is better than over-
heating I think, though why we should be tor-
mented this way, never allowed any comfort
strikes me as a mystery - maybe this is how
government employees suffer Purgatory

And as life continues as we leave our physical
bodies we go straight to a kind of bureaucratic
heaven where the temperature will be just right
I can't wait for such perfection…