THE WINTER THAT IS NOTHING
The Winter that is nothing is the nothing that is this that is this this this this somehow year that is how this year has been is now and now will be has been a gnaw against the spine has been is this laden leaden leavened fear written in a scramble script is risen smeared is over all is this cold flame is pricked is certainty’s simulacrum is this scrim stain is mouth is ash is brain paint this this this this somehow year peeled steeled reeled days flayed a breast open at the the sky the marrow weeps its bone ache deep inside extraction’s sacrament Extreme Unctions watching from the sill still night roaming on its knees a lost extinction this this this this root risen as in prayer antlers this dead everywhere this is this is grief is as monster is as barren seed is as stillborn anther festering the cold is strewn up on the street this comes now rapping? wrapping? tapping? trapping? is careen this half masked eye moon may not breathe ice draws on this lung water slits this loneliness this eats its young anthrax air excavates a howl
Kathleen Casey is an artist and poet living nervously beneath several slumbering volcanoes. She holds a degree in fine art and has received awards for her photography, illustration and graphic design. The gifts of the earth, and the wonders of the cosmos are constant sources of inspiration.