Poems of the Week by Gerry Crinnin - The Buffalo News

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Poems of the Week by Gerry Crinnin


by Gerry Crinnin

Their gibberish high humming serrates

the dusk like electric peckerwoods.

What ugly husks to buzz of words,

nay-saying sisters parched and parchment

glued to a tree, my little shed, under

the deck, grinding out the end of summer

with abdomens and antennae, bitter crisp.

Impossible to locate, they appear as this

eerie potato chip, bug-sized uber-crunch

attached to my porch and facades.

Up Against The Aire

by Gerry Crinnin

No one can sleep because the new sound

of the refrigerator, not a cool chirping

but the howl of some frozen vegetable,

as of broccoli 9 miles from the South Pole.

I finally hugged the giant white box

from the wall – all the dust, old dog food,

grease-ambered ants and lost BBs –

the once gay linoleum piece curdled)

disgusting, and I pulled the plug. Whoa.

Inside the freezer an arctic shadow box:

still lifes of rimed meat, blizzarded green

peas squashed by snow, ice cream burned

by cold, chipped out with a butter knife.

This is when I pulled out my Disco-era hair

dryer, the big blower (why I saved it), and

switched to high, to the Chaka Khan setting.

Three minutes later it was melting by far.

I unscrewed the back panel and fan shroud,

the whole grid of tubing and fins encrusted.

I would say pretty cool, if I knew what to do

now. Defrost?

GERRY CRINNIN teaches English at the North County Extension of Jamestown Community College in Dunkirk. He is the recipient of the SUNY Chancellor’s Award for Creative and Scholarly Activity.

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