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Sunken Dreamers' Almanac: Cold Snap



Q pops a quiz every pep rally Friday. Picks out a new tie for every cute tail he curtails in detention, his highs entailing emotional entrails & youth addiction. Hides his sickness in the secrets he secretes on his sheets, behind the artificial whiteness of his teeth, only flashing his fangs to a limited audience of prey. Seethes a ring of skull upon his bedroom mirror as snow plows the world outside, while internal pipes bleed steam & burst, too brittle for below zero onslaught. Where human warmth once wrought remedy, now fresh rot floats spreading infection flotsam in the form of unfit-for-society fantasies. On her knees, his newest derelict devotee raises her 'D' until the freeze thaws & withdraws its glacier gaze. Then, alone behind his desk he sits moonlighting memories through the icy haze, thinking: The big bad wolf wasn't born that way - it took years of parental malpractice to make imperfect, a father with a subarctic heart & taste for young lupine spine.

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