Cold’s wry overdrive
surprising bone by speaking
Bone ossified
Latin of last things.
Kric Krac Kroc
whisper the oracular
French Rice Krispies, emptiness
disguised as food.
Ice cubes
clink in your glass.
Clouds crystallize and break,
regather on the ground and lock.
You can’t
hide in the flesh
forever. Glaciers write with rock
on rock.