Weather Or Not
I'm living in a slight mess, a small pile of, to my left, things, to my right, stuff, directly behind, in a very neat pile, various items of no relation and no sure place to stay. Transient objects, itinerant domestic detritus. Juggling balls desperately seek home, willing to sleep on top of each other.
My mother just told me, they're coming to install the sky tomorrow. No word of a lie.
I spy thunder, I spy thunder,
At long last, at long last,
Catch a streak of lightning, catch a streak of lightning,
Now's our chance, now's our chance.
Today it has mostly been raining needles. We have had thirteen milimetres of pinfall. And through the silence, each one was very much audible. In our glass city the sharp tik of each brass tack felt a spark hit the nerve endings around my ear drum. The tiniest bone in my body tapping out an arrhythmic and spikey cymbal solo.
I remember I asked the sun, very nicely, two days ago, to consider my feelings. Consider my aversion to the heat, my inability with blanket radiation and the utter absence of wind. I like to think it heard me, that everyone listens to me every once in a while, and rewarded me yesterday with storms like a cancer (or the tropic thereof), and today with light rainfall (that evaporated as it hit the hot hot tarmac).
Grey skies on mild evenings. And for some of us, summer's back in fashion.
My mother just told me, they're coming to install the sky tomorrow. No word of a lie.
I spy thunder, I spy thunder,
At long last, at long last,
Catch a streak of lightning, catch a streak of lightning,
Now's our chance, now's our chance.
Today it has mostly been raining needles. We have had thirteen milimetres of pinfall. And through the silence, each one was very much audible. In our glass city the sharp tik of each brass tack felt a spark hit the nerve endings around my ear drum. The tiniest bone in my body tapping out an arrhythmic and spikey cymbal solo.
I remember I asked the sun, very nicely, two days ago, to consider my feelings. Consider my aversion to the heat, my inability with blanket radiation and the utter absence of wind. I like to think it heard me, that everyone listens to me every once in a while, and rewarded me yesterday with storms like a cancer (or the tropic thereof), and today with light rainfall (that evaporated as it hit the hot hot tarmac).
Grey skies on mild evenings. And for some of us, summer's back in fashion.