On a cliff
At the tip
On the edge
About twenty feet
In a hot tub
Staring north
Waters colliding
Just bellow
The path is icy
Don’t slide off
The view is far
This is surreal
Stewing myself
I see a dock
Off the grave of a mill
Makes no sense
I don’t care
10 under zero
Snow all around
I don’t hear a sound
Crank up those jets and settle in
Edge of the world
Could be the end
If that’s the case
I’m not helping
A pool of hot water
On top of a ridge
A hundred degrees
And I’m just cookin’