December 27th

there was a snowstorm on monday morning
and brooklyn
shook like a child when the power goes out.

she stepped lightly across the cold floorboards
heavily while an army of trucks

rushed ahead to pave her steps with salt.
she cursed
the winter world which wept radio waves

across her bare young body,
at her exposure in the rough light

of yellowing disaster. she broke
into tears –
no phone to call (but home).

the lines were down. branches hanging from
telephone wires
like broken cowboy dolls, spurs rattling

in the chilling arctic winds which
will lampposts
into weeping willows.

together we wiped the cold icing off the cement,
brooklyn and I, listening
to the sounds of tapping mice, scurrying among

the blank clamor of stillness.
the roads
were still not clear. we could not move.

we closed our eyes to the corner’s screaming
stains, brooklyn and I,
too ashamed of what we needed a whiteout to notice.

walking by the signs,
brooklyn and I,
the Sharpie-marker signs on sidewalks shouting
about veterans and lost limbs and that goddamn rent.

we hugged our cell phones, willing them to life,
brooklyn and I, simply
because we needed someone to have to tell that we were safe.

I looked out of my window onto the white block
and gazed
at my reflection, pockmarked and dazed.

December 27th


Joined April 2010

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 9

Artist's Description

Snowstorm today. beautiful. it’s great to be forced to stay inside, turn off the phone and read and write and think.

Artwork Comments

  • linaji
  • Arcadia Tempest
  • JakeSoiffer
  • ThePhotoMaestro
  • JakeSoiffer
  • Pooh
  • JakeSoiffer
  • oema
  • JakeSoiffer
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