what happens to snowmen that never become men?

surly white snow
and all of it's fixin's
gathered in flakes
and drifts and the banks
with salty dirt piss stains
of brown, yellow fancy
like the rottened out teeth
of stinking bar whores
with their menthol 120's
and angry little drinks
containing nothing but booze
the ether escapes
from twixt the gaps
and 'tween the gum holes
like reverse vacuums
of reality's shortcomings
anouncing to the world
that reality's limp
a little smidgen of post
that doesn't last long
but likes to pull hair
and obscenely scream out
making the neighbors
bang on the walls
the pounding
the pushing
the screaming and yelling
and that's just the neighbors
fighting the sounds
and found down and out
outside the room
is a yellowed out snow bank
seeking to melt
wishing to crawl quick
into the bedroom
and gaze ever so briefly
at violent love