Winter and summer went extinct
When they thought of what kept them thin
Spring might have been intensifying,
but it was as cruel as someone snatching away scent
from flowers that wanted to be sniffed
By some asthmatic old man, his last wish,
that he preferred dying from the pollen that already wanted him dead
He was dancing on delicate glass,
and then playing Frisbee with it’s leftovers
And the dumpster that was suddenly noticed
How pathetic fame was
No matter how much you try and freeze anger
it will erupt
and boil surfaces, already condensed.
It’s like trying to equate the numbers on an equation
One plus negative one
One half only hunches to watch the rest keep a straight posture, boastful
Isn’t that ancient history?
Signs that seagulls and snitches have only found more careful ways
to control their wings with
How far apart are we
Yet feel like boomerangs in mid flight
Uncertain of whether they will ever come back
Uncertain whether it was even us, or something else
that swung them against the abominable breeze
that promised warmth,
but cracked ice instead.
It wasn’t the ice, you goof
Just put on different shoes
Just go, dammit, just walk.