The
Marching Freeze
this
lion is March with freezing chill reaching marrow bones
and New York is pushing industrial heat
against nature every minute still
claiming ground for the summer swell
and where is that groundhog anyway?
on a Bahamas beach most likely peaking
with a string of Pina Coloda pearly whites, no less,
for a polished smile
while the flag waves its precepts in baseball abandon
because spring training might have started
but only frost is converging on home
plate and the skyline is melancholic gray with massive
bare concrete
erect and silent like a movie set
and unseen boilers may just burst from the demands
with the same steeping violence of a homeless man in
winter
puffing on a found curbside half-smoked Newport cigarette
for comfort and heat that continuously escapes him
because the shelter closed from lack of funds
but where does this forgotten army hide
when March is icy cruel if you're vacant in the city
streets?
