The fan
What can one say about the fan…?
It’s perfection in motion
So breezy
So cool
So perfectly aimed
The unqualified tool
The speeds are not random
They are flawlessly paced
One for ‘plain’ flashes
The others for ‘baked’
By day
It sits
Alone on the floor
So solitary, serene
So plain
Unadorned
But at night
In the dark
It dons
Its superman cape
And becomes the hero
The ‘Vanquisher of Nape’
What can one say?
About this domestic device
Without it
I’d resort
To sleeping on ice!
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