Her juul

Stone slab upon stone slab, cool

to the touch. Draft greets them, their window

hanging open a tad. “Grab a coat.” Her juul

 

blinking silently as he begins to unspool

a thick lump of Flandria Virginia. “Tin’s low.”

Stone slab upon stone slab, cool

 

droplets of rain collect on the stool

where they burn bifters during Heaven’s grey crescendo.

Stone slab upon stone slab, cool

 

flakes of snow now pool

over Vic’s car outside. The little mouth of its gecko

hangs open a tad. “Grab a coat.” Her juul

 

crackles again, and– “Obviously,”– I ain’t no fool 

but Vic’s offended and somewhere the mouth of Limbo

hangs open a tad. “Grab a coat!” Her juul

 

again blinking, his tin still low but his pouch is dual

so he rolls heavy anyways, tobacco

stone slab upon stone slab, cool

hangs open a tad. Grab a coat: Her juul.

 

//

Villanelles are really fun to write, but it’s definitely going to take me a handful of attempts to come up with anything substantial. Hardest part about this form is coming up with a strong A1 & A2. Without a clever refrain, the poem just doesn’t make sense. Practice is fun though, so I think I’m just going to work on ’em for a while

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