An Aire ' Bout Central Air

Far moost o' me
three score minus one year
tethered upon terra firmae where
planet Earth doth veer

(spins upon the global axis
(tilted 23.5 degrees from the plane
of its orbit around the sun),
terrestrial genesis (perhaps accompanied

for Pete's sake by Gabriel
blowing his horn) in all honesty unclear
boot more oven concern
points to thermonuclear

and/or subnuclear
war, particularly at forefront
of thine primate noggin
actively hypothesizing

theoretical armageddon,
when non plus ultra gravitates
with e pluribus unum necessitating
each individual to bend over

and kiss his/her rear
goodbye unless total merciless queer
hue loss atomic fallout immediately
incinerates e'en

the moost savvy profiteer,
which aforementioned prognostication
arose from overbear
ring hazy, hot and humid

dangerous heat spell near
lee approximating insufferable
temperature nearing triple digits
(along Eastern Seaboard

of United baked States
makes this human,
an immediate convert to climate control
(though he happened tubby already)

basking, glorifying, and luxuriating
within delightful 60º Fahrenheit mere
really expressing gratitude for such
creature comfort donning my

stretched out birthday suit,
(yet thee moost comfortable leisurewear
then thrift store "special bag
mountain of clothes

as mooch as Yukon sales,"
no matter mine ill mannered
mirrored reflection doth jeer
at such a sorry sight, and/or

laugh reading interlinear
monologue colloquy,
which message gleaned between lines,
and should this poem be red aloud,

thy orgasmic passion linkedin
with humming HVAC, ye would hear
courtesy hove cochlear
(hollow tube in the inner ear)
sensitive to deafening sounds...so beware!