Snowflakes burst.
Against the delicate wings.
Of frenetic faeries.
As they swiftly orbit.
The one-eyed skull.
Of a forgotten snowman.
They shoot him.
With liquid.
Multicolored and warm.
Using plastic water guns.
They borrowed.
From the local dollar store.
The head will melt.
With gaudy ecstasy.
And in this puddle.
Of swirling rainbows.
The faeries will place.
A couple of figs.
And dress them.
In a flat paper tuxedo.
And white dress.
They borrowed.
From the local craft store.
The figs will be married.
Under the harvest moon tomato.
The faeries hang.
From a nearby pine.
With some twine and a tack.
Before the she-fig can say.
"I do."
The tomato will fall.
And splatter against a rock.
Which one of the faeries.
Thinks looks like the face.
Of Steve Urkel.
But none of the others.
See it.
"I do," the fig says.
A baby sneezes.
In the wind.
And it's time for bed.
To forget how much.
Can fit in a day.

Twitter Updates

follow me on Twitter