Memoir of an Ice Cube
I am an ice cube in a sea of soda,
lolling here for hours. I am among
this caravan of swirling ice cubes,
stale sea of soda. Sit here
in the shallow end, feet swinging, swirling, shriveling:
how small this tall glass is. I once thought
it was everything.
*********************
Albino Corporation
Summer
& the kids are dropping
aluminum cans like business cards
that read “I’m young, I’m wild, I’m free.”
Skateboarding beneath a rotisserie sun,
Delicious skins frying across the tippy toed length
of June, July & August. Meanwhile
a man collects up all their cans
like a stooped November custodian
gathering musky gym towels
“I will make a profit of your sinful youth,”
he grunts while a sticky genie
composed of sugary pools
of caramel colored sodas
entwines
his albino corporation.
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