it’s aspen in the eighties, basically,
but farther out,
father north,
and with tidier feel,
a winter wonderland
you’re paying for,
governed as a guest,
staffing forever,
but you’re living
your holiday life,
eating vegan food in
vinyl restaurants,
watching art cinema
with a beer in your hand,
starving, full of ideas,
full of elven energy,
peering at snowflakes
wondering how now
it could seem so right,
even in the hard ship
of a dark winter night.