December goes mad
when it snows so much.
V hangs those blinking lights
on his window for Christmas.
They are tacky, about a yard,
turn red and green, then
for some seconds, go off and
can not be seen, so that V
who would strike out on his own
tonight, finds it hard.
But when they are lit, he sees the city
between their red and green, and
nothing, it seems, is stopping it,
the cars run by and the boys on the
bus stops fill the sky with their cigarettes,
and tonight, even if it is not like in
the films, it is not much worse, and
December, V would know, is only
mad at the snow because it melts,
and, try as it might, it can not let go.