lost in
the pitter patter
of penguins
dancing across
the hoarfrost
covering my mind

sidestepping
the rain falling
over this concrete
mausoleum
disguised fitfully
as a city

the temperature falls
with every
aching breath
expelled
down empty streets
in crystalline malaise

the potholes threaten
to swallow me whole
to drown in
the discarded daydreams
that paint the sky
in shades of sorrow

still those
goddamned penguins prance
along the
unsubstantial ache
that grows with every
absent flickered dismay

it isn’t that
i am incapable
of asking for help
it is that
the resounding silence
is the only offer extended

freezing to death
in the skyscraper
bedazzled tomb
of ignoble
poets and dreamers
in the dead heart of texas