Photo by Michelle Bacon Life is not a bowl of ice cream
It is not leftovers
It’s not even a fresh stalk of celery
Waiting to be chopped and mingled
In a succulent trinity Dish

Remove the refrigerator door
Let the kids play
There is nothing hidden in the ice
Crack the egg open

Whip yourself if you must
Do not contaminate the dance floor
With ill will

The cold brings sores
The heat cooks meat
Both pass the germs through us

Lifting the clocks
Of our grand fathers
Excavating the thoughts
Of our great grand mothers

Read
Red and green
The stop and go
Of Christmas contradictions

A child is crying for a candy cane
A man is dying in the frozen rain
Let’s make it vanish like David Blaine