Cold Is Envious Is

All my creative life certain people have gone out of their way to denigrate every creative work and you wonder why when they create so little or nothing at all…




My heart pumps ink blood berg-clogged

Course erratic within skins of tundra vellum

Nibs of pointed ice pierce parch meant

Calving shelves of unsung ebbs and floes

Grinding sensibility into quarto slush


Cleft sharded poems reach a larynx swept

To death by a howling indifference

Like Arctic gales Antarctic gusts see

Seal pup quatrains bloody-pulped by fangs and claws

Of bipolar bears and shrivel-lipped trolls;


Avatar-cowards who swing their lead-filled clubs

Then hug the bard with bombast-vests primed

With scree and screech, shrapnel verbs and nouns

Glacial adjectives; fuck-off-and-die prepositions

Because cold is the envious soul is blank is


© mitch 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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