january weather is agitated daily along
the four-oh-one. each nimbus vessel
pausing to think before sloughing
ice, rain, snow, hail.
this is one nervous system.
each passing article describes
the rising, the freezing
point punctured, and winds, not
content with tree branches,
rattle the burlington skyway, aiming
to wrench free cars that seem burned
to the road. these hearts of the cities,
exhausting all welcome,
skid, pile, buckle
like cancered chests, asphalt filling
each separate thorax, wedged solidly
between everything needed. the finest
filament sews while fumes seep
into the grand river. swelling like any
wound, waters paint the sleeping grass
sienna. but this muck is no proof
of spring. there is such desperation
in the lack of birds.
