Tapping into the theme of contraries (without which there is no progression, according to my friend Blake), I started obviously enough with hot and cold, then fire and ice, dry and wet, sweet and salt, high and low, sun and snow and suddenly I was in southern Bolivia in June 2014, and guess what? There's been a terrific snow storm up on the altiplano, part of the Atacama desert (some 12,000 feet above sea level) and the happy natives have built a snowman, the core of which survived (below) for a day or so after the rest of the snow melted swiftly away.
Oh my, the transience of all snowman life! That set me musing in broader terms about other contrasting pairs such as good and bad, rich and poor, legal and illegal as they might apply in a Bolivian sense. That country is the third largest grower of coca plants in the world and home to drug cartels that channel and supply great quantities of cocaine (also known euphemistically as Bolivian Marching Powder) to the Americas and beyond.
Those musings gave rise to today's briefest of poems (which I respectfully dedicate to the great god Antithesis). By the way, the Imaginarium has been a drug-free state for several decades now.
Snowman In The DesertSnowjob he nose the highsheart of ice grit in his eyes
but insubstantial the prize.Shadowfear of elimination
haunts under altiplano sky.Once a blazing raygun sun
concentrates its fire-power,Snowjob meets a meltwater
death and no grave-marker:live and die fast no remorse.
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