08 March 2011

Coup

Coup 3/8

The mound of snow is melting
turning black – it is a pile of gravel
scraped off the bottom
of a riverbed – or from a quarry
near some graveyard somewhere in Pennsylvania

It is a glacier in Brooklyn
a piece falls suddenly – making that snow sound
under all of that cold there are
bits of road – seven foot slashes of curb

Everything pools in the center
to the side of the road in ditches overfilled
neatly arranged leftovers form a buffet of weather