So Much Depends On This Experience Poem by RIC BASTASA

one night when you arrive home
it is you that opens the garage

you have to step out of the car
and expose yourself to this inevitable coldness of a nightfall

no one is home
tonight

when you open the door using your own duplicate key
you switch on the light

no one is home tonight
the garage and house is now well lighted

you close the door and all the windows
you go straight to your bedroom
&
switch on the air-conditioner

you feel the arrival of a very cold packet of wind
from the tip of your feet
and it arrives like a jackal
as you begin to imagine it to be like

the one that you read in those horror books
it howls so loud trying to break the tympanum of your ears
and it is going to bite you
with its sharp eyes and teeth

but there is something so wrong with you:

you are not afraid, you do not mind jackals,
and now you are ready to bite this crazy one

you like this cold, and you smell the frost
you lick it

there is something so wrong with you:
you are aroused, and you do not like to sleep at all.