We’re hunkered – and that’s the correct word – in anticipation of a major snow accumulation. Streets are pretty much empty, except for delivery trucks and mad-driving SUVs. I’m in a coffee shop where a big man wearing big yellow boots just walked in and ordered a small cup to go. He holds the paper cup daintily with his big fat fingers that look like mutant alien slugs. His mouth squawks like a pterodactyl. The snapping action of his jaws looks mildly menacing, even though his eyes crinkle with friendliness. Everyone talks about the weather as though we’re all college philosophy students examining truth as intently as a Fabergé egg.
snow globe
a sparkle flake rests
on Elvis’ head
by Jeffrey Winke
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
it was a pleasure to read "Big Yellow Boots"!
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