Alien Winter — IV

White seizes the city.
Peace blows
into pieces.
Chaos is kicked around
and shoveled.
On a walk to the library
two foggy eyes
sunk inside a snow-hollowed face
accost you.

“Do you have a fu–ing nickel?”
You walk on,
frosty, quiet.
At the crossing,
the doped beggar marches on,
leaving you with,
“You are a fu–ing nigger,”
before accosting his
next potential
fu–ing benefactor.

Below your feet,
the ice takes
forever to melt.
Flurries go about
their business, settling
like drandruff on walkers’
coats, car tops,
a pigeon’s wings.

Guarding a hotel is
a pine tree
bi-polar —
half-covered in
snow moss.

 

Alien Winter — II

“Let my love like sunlight surround you
and give you illumined freedom.”
~ Rabindranath Tagore

Sunshine isn’t an easy paramour.

In my hometown,
it spills over in
volcanic excess–
scorching land,
human bodies,
cattle and crops,

even as it gently
rocks the hills
with its undulating dance
on terraced tea gardens.

Yet in this frosty city,
it plays hard to get.
Deaf to pleas,
appearing on whim,
the hometown beau
avenges yesterday’s curses
by spurning today’s
advances.

Sunshine is a tricky lover.

Also see Alien Winter — I

Alien Winter — III