Martin Tielli In the Winter. In the Winter's time. Sidewalk shrinking... and you? TV's twinkling. The sky cushioned my ditch with a couch of snow. So soft. So deep and so cold. And you? Sweet sweet silence. I'm already gone. Pleased to meet you. You speckled my throat like a junkie'd prick, So cold, so blue, and shallow. It hiss like snow do As though fish's could know any better Underneath the ice in suspension. It feels like your mouth. A drip of spit on the end of your tongue Falls into the ice and cracks like thunder And a dream I had of girders And an abandoned truck in the underground parking lot With the keys in the ignition. If I be the crane, if you be the site inspector Who had a scotch at lunch and a problem with his wife? You didn't notice The truck, the wires, The white silence of the coming blue fires, The sabotage of a giant thing that would benefit the workers. It's all too much. A spirit can't sink any deeper In to dope, dope, dope, and submission. It's a dream I have. Yeah, it's what I think I know. 'Cause if all this pain and endless anger has somewhere to go... If I had the permit to, all hail Leo Copter! And you would like my face. You would like my face. Sweet, sweet silence. I'm already gone.