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Pneumonia

from Mouth Paw by WCO

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A pocket in my nasal cavity. It tastes like pneumonia. The ache smells of cold steel, saturated in a peel still peeling. To steel my senses from the frosted lenses of fumbling fauna. I stumble, I slip and sink through drifts. My ankle rolls and I tumble until I crack; my skull, the frozen creek. It's wet, and it melts, my sense of fear it melts into the red sparked pool, spidered frost in a flare behind. It melts.

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from Mouth Paw, released January 18, 2012

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B)NNY B)Y Calgary, Alberta

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poem annoys

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