I start my day with two shots of espresso,
then read some late Stevens, watch wrestling
and get to work de-icing landlord’s freezer.

You’ve headed off to learn of breastfeeding
while I hammer cold blocks from metal rails,
reciting my own Cantos, editing

them on the fly, as old ice and words spill
in slushy flurries to the kitchen floor
until the poem’s familiar as an arm

and I can finally close the freezer door.


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Alex Williamson
    Apr 03, 2012 @ 17:12:19

    Not long now old boy!


  2. peter litton
    Apr 04, 2012 @ 00:18:49

    I liked “slushy flurries”…try saying it when your drunk.


  3. peter litton
    Apr 04, 2012 @ 00:40:05

    or when you’re drunk and can’t manage simple contractions.


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