The Airconditioner Poem by RIC BASTASA

as i sleep the airconditioner inside our room
hums a tune to my ear
sounding very much like your
poem recently posted at PH
last night when i arrived late
from the office

Monotonous like the Rural Transit bus
that takes you daily from the house to the city
then back

Silly like a nursery rhyme a la Jack and Jill or ba ba black sheep
There is no philosophical content whatsoever like a very dry well
No water in here no pebbles just plain dust and sand

There is no color like the blue skies and black birds
No motion for wings no notion of movement like our emotions
There is no odor (there is a little bit of rotten fish and wilting leaves of
mahogany, like some fertile humus in mama's backyard)

Forget what i said. It is your poem my dear.
And i must love it.

It is like the hmmmmm of the airconditioner and
It is making me sleep soundly beside you. Anyway

I am here.