At the drive-in, zentangled
particles of winter–
or is it the disrupted
plumage of pale fowl–
shower these Alps on which we’ve
idled our engines,
basking under starry maps;
leaning projections
of two white, active shooters.
The harsh cold blasts us
relentlessly in our coated
shivers. We inspect the spacial
dendrites & sloughings,
crystal spines bend between our
rotating pinches.
The search for definition
distracts us, baits us;
men drop as their stomachs blossom
kool-aid rhododendrons.
When they squeeze the pain, the stains
leak placidly, crimson.
Our screams echo the screams
flickering on the
imminent big picture
imminent blanket of sky.

C.C. Hannett

C.C. Hannett

C.C. Hannett is a pseudonym who writes about cobweb grottos in the PNW.
C.C. Hannett

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