old snow like scuzzy old sox lies along streets
piled laundry waiting for mom to take charge
last week a plow scooped the last edge off
now the gray torn sedimentary cotton lies by the road
like petticoats dragged by a whore around a muddy mining camp
you can count the history of winter in the sandwiched layers
here a thick fall there a thaw a series of inconsequential events
each with its layer of grit and specks of garbage
that sun and rain and time have beaten down to spring
we have inhaled such crud day after day all winter
no wonder we spewed those hacking coughs
our lungs darker than the filters on scattered butts
in the scuzzy splashed and detested gutters
in a museum of history some day spring crud
will be laid out like tree rings like sedimentary rocks
in trays labeling the geology of past winter woes in spring
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| melting snow |
