top of page
  • Route 7 Review

Frank Weber—Octopus Blizzard in June

Creepy scaly arms

are reaching out

across the stones as

snow is falling and

coating his head

still those arms

keep reaching and

keep on pulling that

bright blue bulbous

body across the

slickering ice

inch after inch and

pebble to cobblestone

but now the bright blue

of oceans is turning

into gloss blue of

ice chunks with the

moonlight casting gold

down on top of his head

still pulling and

still slinking

still suckering over

pebbles and cobblestones

and sheets of ice

no clue where

he’s going and I

don’t rightly care

its’s still more than a marvel

to see this

octopus blizzard with

tentacles and fingers

suckers and beak

the water-greased ice

but still he gains traction

while the ice grows thicker on

pebbles and cobblestones

under yellow moonlight

casting long shadows

on down the street

all of the village caught sleeping

twisting and spiraling

coiling and gripping

with a slicking

slurping suction

popping off of the ice

snow cover thickening

salt air grows stronger

but there is no sea to be seen

twisting and spiraling

coiling and reaching

over every

pebble and cobblestone

coated in ice slicks and

powdered with fresh snow

under the pale yellow moonlight

casting his long shadows  his long shadows

on down the street and

throughout all of the village and

all are caught sleeping

in this ocean’s frigid gift

of the Octopus Blizzard in June.


Frank Weber


Frank Weber is a freelance writer from Erie, Pennsylvania. He is a published author, featured in several magazines, anthologies, books and advertising campaigns as both writer and model and is currently a Staff Writer for Bare Back Magazine. Frank draws inspiration from the Kerouac-Bukowski-Thompson vein, and his work encompasses a firm conviction, simple honesty in written word and enough of a raw edge to make people feel what they read.

24 views

Recent Posts

See All

Riley Mayes—after hope

there is no lily of the valley / there is only one trash bag / lifting its wings / aimlessly down the canal / adrift in air seethed

Commentaires


bottom of page