Alex London

Just hours before, the mountain had stood
An age old man in a crisp white hood,
Gazing at water that lay by his feet,
The lazuli lapping, not ceasing to beat.
...

Hands forced together,
vicelike. Forever
Your Breath pours from flowery lips and, in frosty tendrils
That twist and turn through the coral air, fall in glacial rills.
...

The rumble and grumble
As, from beneath me, he would tumble
And I would see his eyes gleaming,
Look at his tennis ball, dreaming,
...

The gauzy light of sun descends,
Space bids you rise and frame the void
As shadow arms of branching ends
Cascade through glass, their spirits buoyed.
...

You can sit in your boat of ice
on the warm flow and watch the
Whittling sink in.
Tomorrow will certainly kill you like
...