Portable cooler

I went to Shanghai to do some work,

Not knowing the summer had gone berserk.

I sweated bullets and shells and bombs,

They came pouring from armpits and palms.

I needed a portable cooling device,

A thing to cool me cooler than gneiss.

Fans don’t work, they need the juice,

A/Cs neither if you’re no Zeus.

I asked a friend if she could offer advice,

Her words were, as always, quite concise:

“Take my friend Felicity, she’s always cold,

She has that from her grandmother, 100 years old.

If you keep her by your side:

Weather Scandinavian, chill, not fried.

Cool and dry like it really ought to be,

Sweat pores’ day off and cooler for thee.”

I called Fel, as she’s known by friends,

Asked her on a trip for a quick brain cleanse.

Now she’s by my side, left or right,

Cooling me down, healing my plight.

Cold toed friends are helpful in heat,

Hot bodied ones when it’s bucketing sleet.

I guess what I’m saying is, each has his place,

Whether or not your blood likes to race.

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