Wednesday, April 25, 2012

the frosties

ever since they moved in
i can’t seem to
watch a movie i haven’t seen
visit somewhere i haven’t been
forget the violence of the shattered violin

artic howls

i don’t fear
but i live with them
and the paralyzing truth they bring

compacted freezer-burning sounds

we walk downstairs and upstairs and down
the hall to his temporary coffin.
sometimes, we go to that store
with those familiar aisles
but i only see the treats i know

ice creamers

and raccoon piss runs down my walls
and if i had a voice i’d scream
and never stop

angel imprints

the little ones play it off
the old folks dance it off
snow falls
spheres get stacked
and men melt.

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