snow-water dribble dots are mountain spheres on my sweater
outside, the cold is hol-ee ****
the weather is wholly enveloping wooly anythings
so good luck telling skies to quiet.

I tried, and the skies whispered back
by breaching the bottom lip of my jeans to crawl a great big
'ha
   ha
     ha
       haaaaaaa'
up my Pyrenees spine like God had laid out a line of coke days ago and was only now ready to gracefully snort.

they said 'blizzard' last night,
I said 'blurry blank' in the morning
rain and slush and cold and rush and
no no no, my veins weren't heating up.