The world is an igloo

I know this because my coat is holding my body hostage

I wet my lips with burnt sips from a coffee mug

God paints emotions on this canvas we call a face
When I tumble I morph into a snowball
Zipping to the bottom
I stare at the feet of nature
Contemplating my cool climb into the blind breath of the wind

– Eric McCarty (12/6/2011)

2 thoughts on “:Wounded:

  1. Fantastic final line. It reminds me of some of the lines in the e.e.cummings poem ‘i will wade out’. This, for example:

    I will rise/after a thousand years/lipping/flowers/And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

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