Our lives were fur lined,
hands steeped in deep gloves,
clown noses, warm as thermals
stopped the blue, and the frostbite
we yearned for.
Once I slipped my head into the fridge
for one whole hour. Eyeballed the socket
of a kipper. If he blinked once he blinked twice,
while I became a block of ice,
which melted into my slippers.
9 Aug 08
Rated 9 (9) by 1 users.
Inactive (1): 9, 9
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i would make clown singular. and i think frostbite is one word.
other than that, i loved the cold here, and the snot that ran off my beak froze in one long whole icicle.
really enjoyed this poem.
nicely titled, nicely real(EYE)zed...what? hmm, yeah. but, no, wait the olympics are on and this qualifies for, well, nothing. have to wait a few years for the winter ones or 10's. 9. 9. 9.
I am already well qualified but i fear gold always escapes me
Larry dull metal Lark
Well written wry wit!
this is so amusing, spry writing with your delicate but most effective touch of humor.
I've thawed out now
Larry the drip Lark
Nice to be appreciated listen
Yes, this is what I search for.
I will never forget the second stanza of this poem:)
thanks for writing.