The snowman slicks his hair
and sits on the piano bench.
He never comes to press the keys
for fear of the warmth
in a major chord.

The snowman lets his whiskey stand
in ice upon his windowsill.
He never comes to press his lips
for fear these poisons
will reduce him to elements.

The snowman browses works of art,
photographs of beautiful women.
He never comes to try his luck
for fear that rejection
will leave him cold,
and preserve his distance.