coffin of ice

winter's already here
with its sepulchral grasses
still green under the snow
my goddamn mind is full of trunks
& old clothes thick as dead clover
I found your letter
w/its odd song & that promise
veneered w/a candy I don't
believe in anymore
gonna carve me a coffin of ice
and learn to keep still forever


Referring to a letter that Alison wrote me, promising a different time in our future. Perhaps she meant it when she wrote it, but it looks more like a manipulation from this distance of years.