New York City, holes
for shoes, sleep-drunk
and stumbling through slush
up to your neck, and this
is the movie of your life,
and this is your life.

The glass is ice and the ice
is melting. Your boots
will never be mended.
This is the dream, and this
is your life. The clouds are full
of snow and needles,
but the train is coming,
and soon you will wake
in the warmth.