no friend

artwork by author

to have the man where a boy should be
to belly the winter in her cave
to sing the songs of color to cobweb and ice
this was the fit fit that sprinkled her minds

minds you say, but how had she plural?

that is just matter
I tell you
frozen things, silly!
down in the mischiefs
of all the children she’d eaten

in the Cold



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Fox Kerry

Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.