Monday, August 30, 2010



Summer sleep demands a fan.
We purchase them collectively.
Within a week of the heat,
the fans in the town have all
been sold, lugged home.

The heat is a disease to fight.
We are subject to it. Evenings,
fans get dragged into bedrooms.
We tilt their faces toward us,
push a button, and savor

their cool breath easily washing
over us, each of us alone
behind our eyes. Months go by.
The fan still stands at our bedside,
shushing the scuttle of night noises.


  1. When my brother and I were little, we used to sleep on the floor with the blasting away at us. We'd play this game where we'd keep our blankets off as long as we could and see who caved in first.

    These days, I still can't sleep without moving air. Thank goodness for ceiling fans shushing the scutt of night noises. I love that line.

  2. From Therese B. -- A poem that quietly hums from line to line, stanza to stanza. I like how the fan that fights off "disease" at first becomes, later, a mind-altering substance itself.

  3. Heat and cool breath and being alone behind our eyes. That's how I will think of Summer now.

  4. I love this one. I am going to remind myself to ask you about it if I ever manage to get the house anthology idea going.
    I could not agree more with the idea that "heat is a disease to fight".

  5. I absolutely need fans to sleep -- not as fond of humidity! You evoked the feelings well!

  6. hahaha, I'm actually SO SO looking forward to fan week :)

    your other kind of fan...



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