Winter Poem

Peaches lie on the table

As I like, sitting

As I do,

Listening to jazz as the

Winter day lapses before my breath.

Tables start to talk at this time of year;

I’m so cold, you see?

I just want to dance.

The windows are all fogged up,

My veins clogged up with defroster

And loneliness—

You poured happiness all over the floor.

Now it’s a stain on the carpet,

A little patch of brown.

I find that the peaches have all rotted. I toss them

Out back onto the frozen grass,

Where even the birds and worms won’t touch them.