so I’m at it with the ice chipper
sorta straightened hoe
sliding the frozen layers off the driveway
on this warmish mid-day before the freeze
guy puffs by tossing a caption at me:
snow’s a bitch, eh?
Hell, I’d prefer snow to scorpions any day.
so I’m at it with the ice chipper
sorta straightened hoe
sliding the frozen layers off the driveway
on this warmish mid-day before the freeze
guy puffs by tossing a caption at me:
snow’s a bitch, eh?
Hell, I’d prefer snow to scorpions any day.
love the snow and scorpion juxtaposition; the colors, and rhen the claws. nice.
claws, also,.. the caption thing was nice – disorienting, almost.
One of the intriguing things about writing poetry is that the intense thought that goes into the poem sometimes produces pithy observations that one can then toss off casually in conversation. I have since used the snow/scorpion comment several times, with some fun reactions from cashiers, casual passers-by. It’s stimulating to shake people out of the formulaic public world trance we inhabit.