So cozy is the evening o’ the year;

but the new year…

               it’s opening blinds to blinding light

& yanking all the blankets off me…

                                                                      ¿Why?

The grandest meal that lasts is that last supper

cooked warm on death row.

                                                        But now

I’m leased to nothing but the clear-skied breeze.

& the’ain’t e’en any leaves.

                                                        But wind…