cold not parallel

winter blinks, cries, 
sends lies to the rink
to skate the towering
gray off their ceiling

truth rejects commotion
for a tinkling January
chickadee, convinced 
that spring will never dawn

linguists and executives 
line their shelves with 
proofs; pudding curdles 
in their types of heat

non-sequitur stanzas 
carry on as the carrion
run afoul of noses poised
on the edge of newly frozen lakes