In summer’s broil, I went to the closet and found
the coats scarves hoods and muffs of winter
looking like prison guards waiting
for their claustrophobic convict.
Winter, in the mind of summer, is
An exposed imposter. Never was there
Such cold. We pulse in the heat
That enslaves the winds: north south east west.
We will strip ourselves, each season
Taking off bra pants boots and all
The etc that once, in a delusion
We clogged ourselves with wearing.
All our sweltering flesh we will disinter
From the paleolithic jaw of winter.
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