Autopsy Report: Unwanted Blood-types and Summertime in Patagonia

you're not built for a winter like this
i think nobody is
and that's why we get scared when
we realize we have bad-friends
that probably won't stick out the cold
on their own, you know they're out in town right now
prying around the corners for something
to help along hibernation in basements behind the couch
or apartments under the window sills
and broken lamp shades on itchy rugs

first spring in pennsylvania at the house across the street we saw
a toad got caught in the hole dug out for the basement window
and nobody was tough enough to touch a toad
but it wasn't there the next day
so either it learned to jump higher or my dad
came and popped it out with the shovel
in that less than graceful way dad's so often save days
but the truth i never told was
it drowned with the rain that froze
and i know because i saw it get chipped out like an ice sculpture
unstuck and into a walmart bag by a blue hands
and shuddering i watched it shuttered into a big plastic trashcan
and didn't say a word when my mother
lied about it, said she watch it hop away
and she smiled and talked in a voice like i wasn't feeling sick
like i wasn't about to go tip over the trashcan
and see for myself when it snowed again for good measure
and i took the frozen toad and threw it in the cul de sac
and none of the kids knew what it was until the next day when
it was warm enough to melt again

i was left alone with a time of day and a drive to make
a walk to take to the foot of your bed
to scream at you to reanimate, to kiss your sheets,
toadskin under imitations of dampness, keeping their space-
bloated blue undertaken bodyless baloon space-
watching you with eyes that don't see
a person anymore than a place
because the truth we found out later is that
you didn't die in a bed asleep or awake
but instead to the locked basements and gray decembers
under eight foot snow drifts, frosted windows and paramedics
and the wide doors and the lights that swallow people whole
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me
Last edited by jiminizzle at Jan 2, 2012,
This conveys a lot of.....visceral emotions? Like styles that are felt but never displayed, and some of it works and some of it doesn't. Some parts had great wordplay, some parts were melodramatic, some parts flowed like a hip hop song. There's a lot here to delve into but I'm too high to attempt it.
Poor advice.
And also, you're recent piece titles make it hard at first to take the piece seriously.
Poor advice.
also unfortunately too stoned to elaborate but I like the way this swerves, it's less structure coming from you and a reliance on internal rhyme and recurring themes to keep it cohesive. nice read. You've been consistently impressive
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e-married to
& alaskan_ninja