Snow Globe

It was January 6, I was six years old, which would’ve made it

the Sixties, and it was snowing.

Snow filling trash cans like ashtrays. Mom and Dad

distantly fighting the giant snowstorm.

I jellied the donut in my fist and dragged my Cheeto fingers

down the walls of the igloo.

Quiet murmur of voices muted by the snowy insulation.

Snowy machinery. War, a blue sky blower

somewhere else dreaming of rain…

It is snowing snowing and my snow castle is growing cold.

Cold like white poodles cruelly falling from the sky.

Cold like Conrad Aiken cruelly killing his children.

I am watching Silent Snow Secret Snow all alone, Orson Wells

booming about snow, the igloo

growing close, my rosebud cave.

O cold colding! endless snow globe of war. It’s Squid vs. Whale,

Firebird vs. Camaro, McNamara vs. the Jungle, etc, all heavenly white

machinery trapped in a snowy world, it was the Sixties, and it is snowing.