Sonnet: Ice

by | Jul 29, 2014 | Poetry

If I turn my back, a glacier might come & encase me in ice, right here at my computer.

Better to be shrinkwrapped with someone than frozen alone.

If I wait too long, the room might fill with lemons, & the citrus from the rinds, even if I’m careful, will irritate my eyes & lips & all of the papercuts I didn’t even know I had.

Or the room might fill with balloons (suffocation) or paper airplanes (more papercuts).

One of the best things about rational numbers is the proof that disasters are finite.

A five, according to Pythagoras, would melt the glacier, but Pythagoras, of course, is dead.

Go ahead & google the people who died due to strange catastrophes this year.  It isn’t pretty, where “it” might refer either to the deaths (“they”) or the search itself, as your room fills with particles.

This airplane has a poem underneath its folds.



Photo By: @Doug88888

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