Cold Front

I halt a verbal spiral
delivering cold half-truths
like snow drifts beneath palms
locking eyes with freezing fowl
I pause longer than I should
a lifetime

we would have withered like crumpled foil
like frost bitten oranges
here, a frozen month spent stolid
silent
there, a special month because
we escaped winter words

Sunday Brunch

Busied boiling macaroni
irrigation of throat meticulous
morbid silly hangover
shrill light, bright noise
no more surname

Busied handing you affection
my digit adorned again
suffering distilled orbit
a ravine of broken bottles
my lord

No work for 2 days more
loaf here
with Captain Suffocate
he left a big howling lacuna
and forgot me again