Last Day Of December

I don't really wish to comment on this year gone by.
You don't want to wish them away, but...
Anyway, let's imagine a better one in 2012
and hope that maybe the Mayans
just got sick of counting.

Cold Out There

Thirtieth Day of December

Awakened suddenly and late this morning realizing that
I'd been sleeping hard and deep - which is rest,
which is good - marking something said in my dream
to write here later, but it's faded now or
I've lost the context, but
it had something to do with someone and his
gone-away smile.

There's a snowflake or two in the air this morning,
cold, as it's supposed to be,
and outside the Bank of America
there's an armed security officer posted there
since the grafitti incident, bundled up tight -
black watch cap, scarf, upturned collar, combat boots
and a territorial scowl undermined
by the ear buds of his I-Pod.

Little Drummer Boy

Rope

Snow Tires

The temperature plunged thirty degrees in twenty four hours
and that change was ushered by winds which
had us all bracing for the sound of breaking trees falling
on our house, on our heads.

We don't speak it.

Twenty Eighth Day of December

Put everything on credit cards,
everything everyone needs and wants,
and then go to work and prepare yourself
for another year of busting your hump to pay creditors.

It's raining and you hydroplaned your way to work
but you made it there alive after signing the waiver
at Wal-Mart following your oil change which let you know
yet again that your tires were far too bald for safety.

In the morning, if you live, you've got a 7 A.M. appointment
to get four brand spanking new snow tires for just a little over 500 bucks.
In the meantime your typing on this brand new computer that cost
your credit card just a little less than that.

The winds of austerity are blowing in this direction.