winter

so denvertown is only sporting the remnants of a real snow -- some ice, some white stuff piled up in yards from the cleared street, that kind of thing. but since it seems new england just got pounded, and this morning I found myself typing up this poem, I thought I'd share it for my dear ones who can see nothing or feel nothing but the onslaught of snow. it's from mr. lerner's first book:

*

The sky narrates snow. I narrate my name in the snow.
Snow piled in paragraphs. Darkling snow. Geno-snow
and pheno-snow. I staple snow to the ground.

In medieval angelology, there are nine orders of snow.
A vindication of snow in the form of snow.
A jealous snow. An omni-snow. Snow immolation.

Do you remember that winter it snowed?
There were bodies everywhere. Obese, carrot-nosed.
A snow of translucent hexagonal signifiers. Meta-snow.

Sand replaced with snow. Snowpaper. A window of snow
opened onto snow. Snow replaced with sand.
A sandman. Obese, carrot-nosed. Tiny swastikas

of snow. Vallejo’s unpublished snow.
Real snow on the stage. Fake blood on the snow.

*

wild night is calling

but it's definitely calling someone else.

my wild friday night will consist of work, laundry, cookie baking (yes, again), making my family christmas presents (I'm so poor; christmas threatens to be pretty embarassing with regard to my gift giving capacity), and probably watching old episodes of sex & the city. so for all my dear beloved friends who are out painting the town various shades of red, my spirit is with you, but the details of my life are elsewhere. and for my friends (you know who you are) up north, my thoughts are with you too, as you manage and love and endure the pretty white storms.

outbound

to the hills! to the tops of the hills! to the tops of the hills from where all the houses look like fireflies in the valleys! to the fireflies below! to vacations!