“broken window glass” by Salem Loucks

broken window glass under my boot treads

leather black against tinted glass green

i think this break-in

stole the snow

they litter their sidewalks with cracked ink

evidence of crime

‘gainst nature and time

they hate it (the cold the snow)

tell me to break

my windows smash

my mirrors

toss the shards to sidewalk cures

glasses down i don’t wanna break the ice

lips spread teeth out in the white

incisors bite down

can’t you see i’m smiling bright?

don’t take my clothes at their worth

i’m enjoying all this sight

throwing keys against the ice i’d rather

lick the falling rice

than smash my face in a clear glass

window

detritus of the burglary

crunching shards against the heel

of feet they’d cut in summertime

maybe in a minute a month

i’ll break the frosted windows crack

my blue glasses and

scream and shatter and throw it all

to the sidewalks show it all

my magnificent theft of winter

thought

the breakin and breakout will be all

that is left

maybe in a second a semester

i’ll sit in my room and sprinkle broken glass

on my toast and tea

and cuddle the dead heaters heart at last

but somehow i think

i’d rather the joyride

to the breakin

i’d prefer the snow

to the salt

the impulse flow

to the controlled stall

so keep your broken glass to

yourself your burgled cars

to your own health

i’ll walk in the white

i like the bite

Art is movement so Salem Loucks has always made art to stay moving and changing. They like putting pretty rocks in their pockets, writing poetry in stairwells, and playing bass in burning basements. Somehow, their best work is always done in transit.