snowflakes burst
against the delicate wings
of frenetic faeries
as they swiftly orbit
the one-eyed skull
of a forgotten snowman

they shoot him
with liquid
multicolored and warm
using plastic water guns
they borrowed
from the local dollar store

the head will melt
with gaudy ecstasy
and in this puddle
of swirling rainbows
the faeries will place
a couple of figs
and dress them
in a flat paper tuxedo
and white dress
they borrowed
from the local craft store

the figs will be married
under the harvest moon tomato
the faeries hang
from a nearby pine
with some twine and a tack

before the she-fig can say
“I do”
the tomato will fall
and splatter against a rock
which one of the faeries
thinks looks like the face
of Steve Urkel
but none of the others
see it

“I do,” the fig says

a baby sneezes
in the wind
and it’s time for bed
to forget how much
can fit in a day