the ice of poetry,
glassine smooth
but
charged hardness,
hits you, ****** you,
the unexpected snowball in the face,

the fire of poetry,
cherished phrase, a patois,
comfort food when
whole winter skies
swallow you bleak

mutual contradictions of poetry
savaging the soothed ego,
revealing the raging id

what's in a word anyway?

quite a lot, quite a lot...