blood and ice

blood
so much
lost and flushing
not dripping
gushing

still alive
after losing
so much...
how on earth?

crevices
cracks
holes and seeping
gaping wounds
endless steeping

red river flowing
deluging
undertowing

ice

numbing

not just cutting
slicing
not just nipping
dicing

frozen meat
in an arctic freezer
the sharpest cleaver
as though blunt
does nothing

not just stinging
violently swinging
landing
upon its mark

golpes to the face
bludgeoned mutton
stunning concussions
wincing
gripping
flinching
now nothing

all gone

the cold hard truth
it doesn't matter
most particularly not to God

and so
because of this
there will soon be
one final act
of coldness

I will be God
for an instant
and all the coldness
will cease

instead of being
the one fucked
in this worthless shithole
I will be the one
who does the fucking

I will be the author
of ice and gales
and wind and hail
as I pin the tail

God has shown
His priorities--
more importantly,
His lack of them

I will
in a moment
show Him mine
and all will see
this rendition
of blood and ice

loud

clear

unequivocal

complete

then He and they
can ponder
what to do
with that blizzard