Why is Hell held to be hot?
Its fondness for orange and crimson
and brown would suggest, I’d opine, it is not.
Devoted to varied gradations of red,
its Freudian palette suggests the reverse:
leaves all yearnings unfed, unavoidably prods
and implies the perverse, the accursed, the untold:
Hell is worse when it taunts with the colors of warm
while you’re endlessly seized by the cold.
(In Hell you get chalk, never cheese.)
Therefore reasonably, if unseasonably,one infers you’d not burn there: you’d freeze.