Brendan Petty
In one ear and stuck forever,
frozen shut in icy weather,
we must endure this together,
the toll of the story’s cold.
Out one mouth and through two phones,
fable spreads its slimy bones,
breaking bonds up as it goes,
groaning as it gets you old.
Around it all spins tales and truth,
rotten breath and frosted tooth,
that penetrate in ways uncouth,
and worsen as they take on mold.