Cold Outside, Hot Inside - Poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
Whiffs and flakes of continual snow
Make the air still frigid, as you know.
Battered so hard by it from outside
My body from its chill petrified.
A high fever is etching me inside
Too, too burning at all to be cooled down
For all the heavy snow and ice outside
So much torrid, so much seething it’d frown
I have a strange chronic patient become
Because of this blow-hot, blow-cold syndrome
Jackets, muffles, warmers and sweaters
Comforters and so also heaters
Can only ward off my outer cold.
How to cool within my flames untold?
Only a lady doctor able
A physio probing and nimble
A nurse affable and pliable
All rolled into a balmy angel
Only that voluptuous strapping wench
Of thirty-six, thirty, thirty-eight bench
Can my fires of passion temper and quench.
She can, but she wouldn’t - the shaft that she has been
Of a never-melting polar freeze ever seen.
Only hope: I have like this to wait
Mooning over my dry limbo fate
For a long time of eleven months
Then only my Love deigns and relents
I can see her warm up to me only then
After the badly starved months of eleven
When she’ll slip off and put on her birthday suit
Damn! Last time I forgot to pay my tribute!
[Dec 24,2009: : Lincoln, Ne, USA]
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