frozen ta ta's

January is a cold
wet, frozen
white tunnel
of freaking misery,
you tell your friend
betty as you both
sit at paneras
sipping hot clam
chowder, shivering
in your artic gear.
we live in Russia now.
I hate it too
she says. look how
red my nose is.
I never should have
gotten those
implants last summer.
I think they've
frozen. listen,
she says, pulling
back her layers
of clothes and clanging
them together.
yup. you tell
her, they do sound
solid. like coconuts.
maybe you could go
lean under the hand
dryer in the bathroom
and soften them
back up. I will,
she says, I will.
as soon as I finish
this clam chowder,
pass me the pepper.