outside the wind howls
and gnaws at the corners
of the old wooden house

inside the fire roars
and eats the trees memories
in hot flickering bites

we sit at the kitchen  table
with mugs of steaming goodness
and chatter about the news

unthinking of those
who cower in windswept corners
cold to the bone,
remembering a forgotten warmth
of heart, soul and body....

the wind  howls,
my heart aches
at my own government's  
stupidity....

and the cold reamain cold
and the homeless numbers grow....
and compassion becomes a useless word
like the mewling of a kitten

That night, I heard
the violin.
Between staves of
leaves,
string-encrusted frills,
I heard a violin,

not cry, not sing, but
dream.
I heard a violin dream.

Before long, after
soon,
I heard the violin.
Between shifting, fleeting,
mindful things,
I heard a violin,

fitted unmathematically
within a memory.

Give me the words to fuel the fire
burning in my gut
It's growing stronger with every addition,
every insult, every cut
It's catching my blood a ablaze,
I feel my body burning up
Give me the words to fuel the fire,
I haven't had enough

the pack of demons
who run with me must know that
i'm the alpha male