20160708 (one fine day)

Is this what most envision heaven to be? No bugs, low humidity?

The weather’s not too nice today, 

As some people, hoping for some

New way of signaling good weather

Say, “It’s too nice,” not it’s so nice,

Or so pleasant or wonderfully mild.

The sky is blue with puffy white

Clouds the names for which I’d

Know if I’d paid attention in 

Physics class—can’t blame the

Forgetting on age. The 17 mph

Breeze makes the 76˚ F feel cool

And the humidity is at 61%, again

Something to which I should 

Have paid closer attention during

Physics. I make these notes now

To keep them in mind for other

Glorious days to compare although

Such days are beyond compare.

Perhaps during the high school

Physics class the outside humidity

Was closer to 80%, there was no breeze,

The temperature inside our non-air-

Conditioned building was in the 90s

And it was likely to pour buckets

While we waited later for an equally

Stuffy diesel-smelly bus to arrive.

The dear teaching Brothers of the

Society of Mary, (Marianists,

Founded by Rev. William Joseph  

Chaminade), who wore even more

Formal clothing than we did on

Such very hot days (we were

Required to wear ties and long

Pants) did not realize they were

Putting us through purgatory. 

Learning under those conditions

Would be like conjugating Latin

Verbs while being stretched on the

Rack, something one could

“Offer up” (shave days off their 

Stay in 2nd class hell) for the poor

Souls presently in the purging fire.

You couldn’t do it for yourself—

That could only be done by others

Still operating in this world of

Sin. You could leave notes in 

Your will to remind the aspirants

That while they’re in a lawyer’s

Air conditioned office divvying

Your former possessions, you—

The loved one, was having his 

Ass branded rare, medium, or

Well done by an unfortunately

Fallen angel poking you every

Now and then with a tripointed

Pitchfork to see that the juices

Are seared in. It could very well

Be that memories like those so

Endear me to pleasant, unbuggy

Breezes, in which the leaves of

Trees wave like green wheat of

The plain and recall that some 

Days have been very good--

Unlike the other kind.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016