Icicles Forever (Feat. Crushed Snow)
The suggestion of an icicle’s downward dive,
Caught striving without noticeable animation,
Like the declaration of an objection,
All momentum moving the indignant thing out.
Filling the mind and heart,
and migrating to the lungs, throat, and mouth of the objector,
all set to fly off into our ears, wagging-finger already locked toward jeebus,
when struck sidelong by last-moment thoughts previously unthought,
leaving a face stuck in epiphany in real time.
The embodied struggle,
Of the presence of pulling,
And the absence of heating.
Gravity, you are important and cosmic, and you have lost.
Shamefully announce that you could not pull a drop of water from the sky,
January 13, 2017