Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

Shiftless kids meander momentarily through air like  scattered haze of glass The shy night opens up, greying and uninvolved in juxtaposition to leafless (leaveless) trees Oh, what are seasons? Just shifts of time in orderly lives The weather between the banter, ceaseless and incessant like people walking trails on clear, untrammeled days Oh, what are the reasons? For this transient massing of time, of people, of indifference Shiftless, unmannered kids, playing games in the park through air of glass scattered with a haze of days

Aches in the bones, moving slowly, my body refuses to cooperate Sick and sad over the cold weather; it's frigid out there waiting White winds blow white snow over white roads -- white The grey skies sit against heavy trees, laden with yesterday's batch. Twisted slivers of air, cold shards of temperature, ever dropping Except when it warms to snow. The supermarkets are full of shoppers trying to miss the weather, bundled up like yesterday's babies, blocking the aisles, hogging the warmth. I stand looking at boxes of fabric softener. Later, at home, I count my books and avert my gaze from the windows. Snow on the window ledge only strengthens the ache.