‘No, what you can hear
is not the ice melting,
snow’s gone from the roof.’ ‘The temperature rise
is less than was claimed. The system is sound,
we have measures in place.’ ‘No need to panic,
shift furniture. You cannot hear drips.’
You fell asleep, with a frown.
So I stayed up too late.
So the ceiling fell down.
If you have any comments on this poem, Alison Brackenbury would be pleased to hear from you.