songanddancegirl

"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

ICE

I LOVE A GOOD ICE STORM  LET ME COUNT THE WAYS

Poet’s lumbersexual beau insisted on shovelling snow on the

walks adjacent to at least 3 neighbours homes   Even the one

who didn’t lift a finger last pellet-storm as poet lay forlorn and

twitching after lifting a Poinsettia

 

Bushwhacker’s winterzealotry  appears disloyal   but then he does

hail from 179 Royal Ave. Winnipeg MAN  where real men eat squirrels

with bare hands  if necessary

 

Today poetsicle dreams of Inn at rented lake  where poetry flows like

manna from Heaven  +the fine last lines you have come to demand   fall

from this pen liked greased hogs at the rodeo

 

However  at this hour: what is bizarre   what is oblique   the revelation   obtuse

+twisted    That which grows out of the poem  by itself  (you should live so long!)

and all littlemisscan’tbewrong poet has to do  is sit there  and catch it escaping

__

 

 

 

 

kingbaby

Almost Spring 2016

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