Freezer log


I chart the freezer’s contents In a list blue tacked to the door: the what, the when, the how long it can be stored.


This mausoleum of stars and ice and frost the drawers cracked on their runners keeping cold the logged and lost.


The small nuggets of inspiration packed in freezer bags hopes and minor ambitions have lost their jam jar tags.


Next to the stiff flaps of pitas and the reused frozen peas the brittle sullen lobster marooned in a silent sea


are the big ideas, the brilliant schemes, the worldwide tours, the wild-eyed dreams,


coated in white indifference unsentimental as rocks. It breathes, it sighs, it shudders, it mocks.


4


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32