Monday, February 23, 2015


Slush is only troublesome
when feet dare to invade it:

smushing up involuntarily
to flush into interstices of shoe,

its vulnerable tentative integrity
is crushed into innumerable

anguished icy tears of existential
rue. Some moral here appears,

we fear, to shed a new grey light
on you and me and you.

Although we don’t fear it
too much. Mostly we were

looking for more rhymes
for “shoe” and “rue.”


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