Hotly Denied
It is so cool, all this warmth,
the way you bask in me. Thank you for asking.
I shall go on and on
baking in your happy alaska.
I have been touched by your sunny
dispositions. The snap of fingers.
The frieze of your smiles, the way
the vox pop rubs its raw voice
at the jump of thermometers,
and the way the dry ice drifts
round my rosy corona. How my hot
majority ices my cake,
what greatcoats you throw round my shoulders!
Great Scott, what polar stars
you are, I am. How high my descent!
Now is the winter of my content.
