The Cacographer

After the abortion, waiting on PS

the snow is wanton
sticking and cloy
like heavy paint
and so viscous
even the rails run dry

so the day crept up men’s legs and
through the heavy pleats
turning black to black and grey to grey
and everywhere plaster stuck from the sky
and everywhere like chipped and bloodless flesh

it pushed itself into dunes like shredded paper made from tungsten
flakes of glass and steel in bleach
the snow snowing and coating women’s reds and woman’s blues
with Wisconsin frozen and New York lost
so that the roads weren’t seen from the fields

reflecting brown into itself and yellow into itself
and the horses cut themselves on ice
and couldn’t bleed through the mountains of rolling snow like molten quartz
and the flowers found themselves invisible

The heavy paper so covered couldn’t find any black
and dropped like rain to sea
somewhere between Paul and their could-have-been
the not new geese flew razor-bent
into the snow pitched ground

posted by OrangeDrink @ 4:25:00 PM