Children dressed in oversized jersey's; lined with white stripes,
Are brawling in the street playing out their favorite hockey fights.
And the sidewalk was tucked in under a soft white blanket,
Memories of summer and autumn are falling out of a hole in my pocket.
The smell of fresh bagels filled the britle winter atmosphere,
And The sun blew me a kiss goodbye, for the early darkness was near.
I was choking on my burgandy nitted noose,
Turning the page to the comics, while i pulled my scarf loose,
I stopped to watch A single leaf hold on to that bold maple tree,
Taken by the wind, and into the suburban montreal esprit,
So i pried out a silver flask from my old levis jacket,
While the memories of summer and autumn fell out of a hole in my pocket.

i smothered the flame and i
let it strangulate, slowly
i stifled its breath as its
sparks licked at me
like a shrieking victim kicking
and kicking

but the fire was hushed, always;
i would strangle that
brilliant crimson gold
before it roared, before it even dared.

it didnt matter if i
burnt my hands
down to their britle bones;
the fragile self ive built is paper in the wake
of knee-**** fury