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POEM: polar

August 21, 2011

It’s my 100th post! woot woot! Of course it’s a poem, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Don’t really know whence this poem came from, but it lacks some direction. Comments, criticisms and suggests welcome.

polar

the rest of my life is spent among

glacier waters and polar bear shit,

exiled to carve open

my thumbs and never write again,

but blood will warm me while

creaming out the Arctic with an ice cream scoop,

frost bites my brain takes the chill off

of my failures aflame, the ice hardens around

ideas, they can’t be pulled out of the lake

until spring

drawing circles in snow with a vision of only blizzard

in arctic circles, warm breath blows

in hypothermic hands, can’t write

in ice

soulation, been

three gelid years:

an appropriate exile.

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