Your heart would break if you knew how many times we walked back from the hole in the fence when the guards weren’t looking. My old jacket smells like incense and french fries now. It took almost an hour to tape our eyes shut. It’s the only way we could be trusted to go outside. The monotony of ice can be unbearable, so say the old explorers. We move slow against the frost. We keep reading the news. We turn to stone.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
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James, this is wonderful! I’ve been doing a series of poems about laundry at Via Negativa, and this just gave me another idea. Thank you!
Thank you, Laura. I’m glad you like it. I’ll be looking forward to see how your idea plays out.
[…] lines are from “The Monotony of Ice” by James Brush. Read all the laundry poems […]
Here you go, James! Thanks again!
https://www.vianegativa.us/2018/01/laundry-poem-ending-with-lines-from-james-brush/