Cabin Fever


The snow had been on the ground

for three months, and according

to the radio another storm was coming.

Naturally we got stoned out

of our minds.

We took out all the plastic

plates from the cupboard

and played Frisbee at midnight

under a full moon.

We left them in the snow.

By the time we woke

there was another foot of snow

covering the ground.  We ate from

cans and paper for the rest

of the winter.  I’ll know

when spring comes; the yard will be

full of red plastic plates.


first published in Bogg, no. 61, 1989.

About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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