“Thaw” by Tom C. Hunley

239 Replies

Scotch Tape WorldI’m hungry, I told the frozen pizza,
and to the windstorm I said,
You’re from Chicago? My friend
moved there to avoid herself, which
I can understand, though mostly I’m
speeding towards myself
hoping only to avoid a collision.
I have felt like a furniture sale where
everything must go, you know, before
the arson, and also like the droopy flower
that ruined the whole arrangement
and made the bride cry. I’ve seen pigeons
staggering in shadows cast by pine trees,
and I’ve seen drunks ambulating
towards bathrooms in taverns pitch black
except for the lamps above pool tables.
I try to hang on as long as I can,
like the icicles hanging onto office awnings
above the heads of smokers. I’ve felt at times
like a balloon running out of helium, a car
running out of gas, a pizza box emptied of all
but the crusts. And now, early in my
forty-second February, I feel like
a snowman, as if tomorrow I’ll be nothing
but a carrot, a pipe, and ashes where two
charcoal eyes sat before somebody squirted them
with lighter fuel and struck a match.

–Tom C. Hunley,
Scotch Tape World
Accents Publishing

Tom Hunley

Tom C. Hunley is an associate professor of English at Western Kentucky University and the director of Steel Toe Books. Among his previous books are The Poetry Gymnasium (McFarland & Company, Inc., 2012); Annoyed Grunt (Imaginary Friend Press, 2012); Greatest Hits (Pudding House, 2010, Gold Invitational Series); Octopus (Logan House, 2008, Winner of the Holland Prize); Teaching Poetry Writing: A Five-Canon Approach (Multilingual Matters LTD., 2007, New Writing Viewpoints Series); My Life as a Minor Character (Pecan Grove, 2005, winner of a national chapbook contest); Still, There’s a Glimmer (WordTech Editions, 2004); and The Tongue (Wind Publications, 2004). He divides his time between Kansas and Oz.

239 thoughts on ““Thaw” by Tom C. Hunley”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *