My Poetry

A Rude Winter Poem

so how cold
is it?
he said over the phone

okay I’ll play

vags close up
breasts grow perky

testicles go north
though they wish
they’d gone south

snot icicles appear
toes try to run away

ears hide and weep
you hear them snuffling
under the hats and scarfs

well he chuckled
that’s what you
get
for living
in Minnesota

I don’t live here!
I was born here

been in 20 states
lived in 2 more

is it my fault
I have a connection
to the land?

though I develop
a sneaking suspicion
by mid-winter
that it doesn’t exist

I might be deluding
myself on that

How warm is it?

Mid-60s he says.

Go to hell!
laughter, not mine
No I take that back
it’s even warmer there

Go to Antarctica!

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