off the Grid
coffee pot galvanized midnight blue with specks
white chipped enamel its cylinder body's flecks
sits on wood burning cast iron stove stoic
its protruding spout touts caffeine elixir rush
intoxicating aroma for old time perculator,
simple strainer nostalgia, metallic seive and tube
hot water physics brews the beans,
high tech stuff in rustic back woods cabin
stove stoked with split oak wood,
gnarled, twisted dry, takes work,
steel splitter, sledge hammer love hate relationship
peaks and lows, brutal blows, manual holds
back breaking grips, combustion's heat
sequoia forest beauty negates fatigue's drain by pain
snow drifts nine feet thick,
as is my head feels now, last night's bourbon's hits
heart to hearths talk with the fire
me and she, my fiery flickering seductive friend
warms to heat my cold cheeks, speaks mesmerizes
incites delight, dreamy pleasures her undulating hips
her licking, crackling lips, she speaks and whispers
soft secret talks, deep as the drifts outside
gonna snow again tonight, silver clouds' tenacity
six pointed wonders of crystal ice,
light as feathers frail, moonlight shining through
cigar smoke dreamy blue, rising gossamer wisp delicate evokes;
is there a new york, a los angeles, out there?
are there such things as war and crime
busy city streets, congested littered roads, haphazard cracks,
razorwire, drunken telephone poles' wires, sirens' manic panic,
1001 cable shows and nothin' on?
this cabin, my womb,
outside snow ceaseless falls
are there planets called saturn, mars, pluto dwarf,
galaxies, endless cosmic space?
the blizzard's gonna hit sometime this week
i'll be socked in for a week or more
let it be a month and more,
snow drifts bury me under 25 feet, cocooned
my blood will flow hot, claustrophobic trapped
stoic scared my heart will thump
self contained suffocated isolation
transfixed betwixt fear of death and regeneration
verges edge of asphyxiation
i'll keep the stove stoked, in the meantime,
door unbolted, exit entrance path unobstructed
shovel's travail, pleas' respite serves no avail
the roof is pitched 45 degrees slant,
with snow so thick weight's tonnage could collapse
my body will not escape this trap
my heart will not try
my soul does not care