Issue No. 9, Summer 2014

My Wife’s Cryogenics
Paul David Adkins

A doctor said she locked

in a closet
in her mind.

I stared outside.

The earth was covered with snow.

She’s frozen.

I nodded.

She’ll think
she’s thirty


I focused
on a drain spout.

She’ll wonder
how you aged.

A fat gray tongue of ice
lolled from the pipe’s iron maw –

a panting gargoyle.

Or was it
a dull hook


from a heavy chain?

Paul David Adkins lives in New York and works as a counselor.