Olde Expensive

Old Expensive The snow is falling, so, I button up my head, above it, Someone’s sound – “above a street lamp”. Music, leaks in, the lampshade sways, hanging above a stained in bed; Freddie gave it all for champagne. Until, the thin applause fell flat! Outside amongst the frozen sparrows, and the cutting snowflakes, snowblades; I see the monsters of winter, No! I see the monster that is winter; coldly emerging from its hollowness glade. An old man in his expensive wilderness rushes by, his white distorted knuckles try to squeeze the breath, slowly from his bitter dream of heavy coins and light notes. While back at home! His wife shaves her skin, to make him thin! She stands in a timeless mirror, in a seamless hall, surrounded by a reflection of wealth! This has now revealed itself as their poverty, tangled in a bruise memory of blueing veins. Comfortably! The monster sits; waiting in their counting house.