a zoo in hell


In passing

It's been quite awhile since I've written an honest-to-god poem. Just haven't felt the need or the urgency to write that way, not for almost a year, I think. Anyway, yesterday I was wandering the winter woods for work and stumbled onto a poem. I'm pretty happy with it, not with the main line of my work lately, for sure.


In passing

shameful there are hundreds of them
sliver shallow
four, five toed paws and three spoked claws
a slow stampede or late anarchy on parade
that breezes over snow
as if aloft
here I am
sinking, trudging
just thundering craters
here in the
thickest snow.