rLobster's Journal: christmas eve unperfect

This is about timeshares.
The snow is commanded by
the ultimate authority on aesthetics.
But like the projected image
through a box or a hole.
All's fair, it's hard to love
in war, the snow begins to accumulate.
It's Stalingrad, but this time
the Rats aren't glorified.
They only stifle the food supply,
kill the creative wit.

If only I could see the falling snow stick to your hair...