There are hundreds of dead ex-friends
hidden in rows of uncollected bags of leaves.
The tiny forest in the ugly, worthless flatland
was undreamt of for years, and unremarked
in its passing. What could recommend it?
Except to say, with a mouth bloodied
by zealous Jesuits, goodbye?
Auf Wiedersehen, plasticity.
The names of locked-in-for-the night orgasms,
the surgical removal of family member scar tissue;
portraits of tombstone memoirs,
all, frozen in a few acres of snow.
Adam Henry Carrière is an online habitué specializing in letters, publishing design, and instruction. A former NPR broadcaster, he holds a BA in Film & Video from Columbia College and an MA in Professional Writing from the University of Southern California. He has taught writing at both his alma mater and for the United States Navy across the Pacific. Born on the South Side of Chicago, Adam resides in Las Vegas, where he has won the Nevada Arts Council Fellowship in Poetry. He styles as Verleger / Herausgeber of Danse Macabre, Nevada’s first online literary magazine, and DM du Jour, its daily gazette. He is the author of Miles (2013) its sequel, Shant (2017) and his first poetry collection, Faschingslieder, from which A Few Acres of Snow is drawn.