Yesterday (Jan 9)’s Fragment
before opening your car door to January,
before shuttering the windows in your eyes.
before shuffling over cracked ice asphalt,
before joints crunch on sore heels.
towards the florescent beacons.
your molars into gold.
burst from the aluminum box:
there is no forward
there is only closing,
I think that this is either two poems, or two poems that need to sit together tangentially.
Also, this is from yesterday. I drafted it very late last night, and was unable to post it (foolish WiFi). So here it is this morning! Look for today’s fragment this evening.