Mitchell Metz
IT WAS COLD
She didn't choose puberty
or Sioux Falls
but suffered both at once.
Low Dakota,
where the more mortal sin
is histrionics;
where every Agnes
greets bone-cracking blizzards
with pleasant "Oh boy"
and practiced stroke
of plastic shovel;
where art is only elementary
in a complete education;
where soil itself
plods the horizon
with spartan step. God,
she needed room to cloy
and wear costumes and
admit it's cold out there.
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Location:
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Oconomowoc, Wisconsin
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Email:
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mkemlmekm@aol.com
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Publications:
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Eclectica, Eye Dialect, 3rd Muse, Poet's Canvas, Stirring, etc.
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