polar vortex at christmas

of course it’s nonsense to believe,

or know head from tails and spin

days into years and find your life

at the water well after hours.


I sold my heart for a cup of coffee,

came home to find a bird outside

on the fire escape, above the sign:

‘$10 fine if found, unless during



my friend who is lovelier than I,

sends me out on a daily voyage,

a prayer in my pocket. I bring

home bacon, cheese and bread

for a child who looks like me.


like fathers before me, I make

the sign of the cross—thrice—

on a head only 8 months old,

as an insurance policy for her

in case the story is true.


a grown man tosses himself

back into the crib. stars shine

brighter now.


In Buffalo, upstate New York,

three guys from the shelter

are running their asses off,

half drunk, through 40 tons

of snow, just to tell the folks

stuck on the high-way about

some holy nonsense.