STORY IS SLOW

story is slow
it moves
like a glacier

the page
Antarctica

my words strung out like
little English explorers

destined
to fail

ICE CATHEDRAL

I am
sleeping in
an ice cathedral

dreaming that it will not
melt, there is
no global warming, the
walls will
stand forever
cold
and sure

I WOULD ARGUE

Words can
warm, I
would argue
but in my
uneventful, comfort
zone life
I have never
travelled deep down
South to the Antarctic

pushed my hands through
the ice and snow to
feel rock, earth
a
live heartbeat.