creek’s frozen


2018-01-03 14.49.42Frozen and red-hot needles poised

rivers of pain and remorse

air thin, almost brittle

no where a soft surface whereupon to lay one’s head

demons dance and djinnies play

foreboding ever-present clouds of disappointment

a tin roof sags from the weight on Sunday afternoon

apparitions disappear and enter with practiced ease

laughter of the most rotten kind abundant, echoing

a chill which gnaws at the bones

a cold day in hell

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