Little Losses

When I was little
Or at least little enough
That the memory
Is tea coloured and slightly speeded up
My father
Brought home some
Solid carbon dioxide or dry ice or card ice
Beloved by rockstars
And chemistry teachers
And people who wish to freeze stuff
But do not have a freezer.
With scientists’ enthusiasm for New
We watched it smoke
And rubbed our hands above it
As if expecting warmth.
Don’t touch
He said
Don’t touch
And my brain was full of

glittering spikes hanging from Austrian roofs/a tongue stuck to a metal pole/ the squeak of ice between my teeth/ pinkish ears zombie toes cold blinked eyeballs/ splintered diamond pavements/ peas and ice cream and shrink wrapped meat/ swimming pools in January/ white on white on white

In another life I turn to old wisdom
There is no smoke without fire
But I know that smoke can come from cold things too
And cold things can still burn.