end of winter
i’m not a summer guy
i don’t like the people out on the streets
smiling at one another
eating ice cream cones and taking long walks
against the moonlight.
their romance turns me off.
i’ve always been a winter guy
the cold, the snow, the bare trees
and desolate streets, a hat, a jacket,
that’s when i like to walk, man.
but here i am this morning
in the beginning of march
with spring ramming right up my ass
drinking a cup of tea to go with my spoonfuls
listening to the radio and watching
a nor’easter blow in and cover brooklyn
with inches i don’t feel like treading over.
the kids are out of school today.
the roads are silent
the wind is howling and ratting power lines
the sky is gray and thick and the snow
seems like it never wants to stop.
to some this is beautiful
to others it is another burden
one last slap in the face from winter
before the trees bud and the days stay longer.
to me, it doesn’t mean anything
because my job is still open, and i have holes
in my shoes
because my jacket is torn in three places
and i can’t find my snowcap
because i’m looking at six days straight on the clock
and i have a doctor’s appointment on wednesday
because you and i can’t shut off the lights
to this day and lay in bed together
with some wine and a couple of books.
because life is an unfair prick
and i can’t find a good way
to end this poem.