Poems · Yuletidings of Comfort and Joy

Brrrrrr…

“Brrrrrr…”

Cold it be,

Nippily.

Feet full freeze.

Plumber’s crack,

air gets in and out.

My hands are deadened.

Damn!

Nostricles.

Stalactite snots.

Car motor moaning,

making sounds no car should.

To bitch about the cold is divine.

New England pastime.

Lost my youth to cold’s prime.

I can’t feel my spine.

Defrost.

Deep frost.

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