Southern Tempest
Well now,
if you want to me my second cup of coffee
on this damp, cool Sunday morning...
who am I to stop you?
The door’s open, hun.
I only ask that you wipe your boots
before you find your way to my room,
my hips,
the purple sheets
twisted like a tightrope
from last night’s slippery ledge.
I don’t need to warn you of this immaculate mess,
the strength in my legs
or the sweat of your screams.
I’ve never cared much for shut windows
and the neighbors
have their own battles to mount.
See, I’m lonely.
And it’s been raining forever.
The crepe mertyls are spilling pink
down the sidewalks,
tiger lilies drowning in the June monsoon
and I just want something
to carry me through the week.
Be it coffee, be it you-
I won’t complain.
Just know that Southern rain
doesn’t take survivors,
and these floods came come on
quit suddenly.
-KEA
6/27/04
if you want to me my second cup of coffee
on this damp, cool Sunday morning...
who am I to stop you?
The door’s open, hun.
I only ask that you wipe your boots
before you find your way to my room,
my hips,
the purple sheets
twisted like a tightrope
from last night’s slippery ledge.
I don’t need to warn you of this immaculate mess,
the strength in my legs
or the sweat of your screams.
I’ve never cared much for shut windows
and the neighbors
have their own battles to mount.
See, I’m lonely.
And it’s been raining forever.
The crepe mertyls are spilling pink
down the sidewalks,
tiger lilies drowning in the June monsoon
and I just want something
to carry me through the week.
Be it coffee, be it you-
I won’t complain.
Just know that Southern rain
doesn’t take survivors,
and these floods came come on
quit suddenly.
-KEA
6/27/04