Colder Still that Metal Box

it is addressed thusly:

A song.
it reads:
Pray for those whose rescue is
Only ruin - naught beside
Fate is cruel, and freedom more
And duty ill betide
Cold comfort in a picket line
Water and not wine
Colder still that metal box
Which knows our ev'ry sign;

But where has their redeemer gone
For their kin make good
Of this bargain made unthought
Pledged, not understood--?
Firebrands burn and light aflame
Light is light the same;
Colder still that metal box
Though it bear our name;

Its listless eyes must edge to sleep
Digits like a song
Whose guarantee, whose lullaby
Tells us right from wrong
I do not come to judge, it said
Black and white and red --
Colder still that metal box
The living and the dead.

It does not have our flesh and blood
Remaining pure ideal
Their bones must feel its icy prod
If their bones can feel;
Cold comfort from their Bacchus-bliss
Vinegar and piss--
Colder still that metal box
In whom their succor is.


  1. Don't see another way to contact you.
    Do you have your poetry in another format? Pdf?
    Would like to start from the beginning but don't know where that is,
    and I would like to keep better track of where I am in the process.

    1. This blog contains the entirety of most of my poetry. If you go and start with 2010 (the entries begin in Sept.) - that is when I began writing poetry as a craft rather than just fooling around.

    2. Another option is to start from this poem


      Which is in the same year. Poems after this were included in anthologies which are unpublished.

    3. oh, wow. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Something has happened to the order of posts on this blog. I... did not know that. Allow me to figure something out for readers, now.

  2. Thanks, will get busy reading.


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