shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Peter Schneider



The cries of my neighbors
line the walls of my apartment
now they are running
now congeal along the seams

the wilderness is leaking in
through the brick

Last year at the lake
when we saw the green ice
far below the surface
perhaps algae was the source of color
but the blue ice what caused that?

You leave in the morning
and from the window where we talked
I can see the black buildings
the ashen river
that leads to the bearded north