|Poems with Punchlines|
We are fighting, again.
This time it's
Outside, stacks of apartments
gain inches (in crystalline water),
while the landscape moves from
You fall asleep angry,
so I escape into the white night.
The flakes are astounding,
like miniscule mirrors,
or mountains of table sugar.
Precipices of ice catching the sodium street lamps
like highballs in a china cabinet.
I bore deep holes in the newness as I go,
carving through the freckles of earlier soles.
Back in Bed, you snore sweetly.
I lie unasleep for a long time,
listening to your breath,
and the plows scraping by.