Vignette in frosty light

This entry is part 4 of 12 in the series Undrafted, February 2015

You stumble out of a bar.
Then you’re sitting on a bench.
By the time you’re in the car you’re reading Bukowski.
You both laugh, until Charlie throws that killer punch of his.

Now there is silence.

Now there is silence.

A silent vignette in frosty light.

Precursor

You would have shown me this

in turn I would have delighted in showing you this

And wouldn’t understand when you were suddenly angry,

this doesn’t exist without this

Snow Poem

Sometimes it feels like it used to rain
I can feel torrents plowing me into the wrong 
lane as I float past cars
And people cheering? No, wait, yes, I’m
floating past you
And snow, don’t let me tell you about snow.

Fun and helpful

Chant chigata-chunk for an hour and tell me what it evolves into.