Grimbeau

She
coughed a cough someone could hear
grabbed and kissed the solid air,
looked into the Frigidaire,
and put away the butter.

He
folded up his underwear,
placed them neatly on a chair,
washed his ears, his nose, his stare,
and pulled of his pyjamas

They
felt the need to disappear,
not another fucking year,
like the last yet more severe,
once they had a future.

That
was a thought that got too near,
pledge to not give in to fear,
get the fuck right out of here,
find a warmer climate

It
is just the time of year,
that makes you cry into your beer,
put a candle in your ear
and bake you own Alaska.