(no subject)
“November”
One after another
these boiling storms.
I wish you could
see it. At midnight
the sky is grape soda
purple and the clouds,
metallic lavender,
move at a frightened
snake’s pace. The
wind moves the
trees, but not
like you would think.
I remember watching
the pines back
in Georgia roll achingly
in thunder storms-
twisting, dancing.
The trees here
in this warm and
sticky channel of
atmosphere shake
like a wet dog.
Only last week
we had to run from
one. Now another
will spend itself out
in a barrage over
TX and miss us
and everyone I know
is out drinking.
The power lines
look like they are
just about done
with all this.
I can hear a garbage
can rolling in the
empty street.
One after another
these boiling storms.
I wish you could
see it. At midnight
the sky is grape soda
purple and the clouds,
metallic lavender,
move at a frightened
snake’s pace. The
wind moves the
trees, but not
like you would think.
I remember watching
the pines back
in Georgia roll achingly
in thunder storms-
twisting, dancing.
The trees here
in this warm and
sticky channel of
atmosphere shake
like a wet dog.
Only last week
we had to run from
one. Now another
will spend itself out
in a barrage over
TX and miss us
and everyone I know
is out drinking.
The power lines
look like they are
just about done
with all this.
I can hear a garbage
can rolling in the
empty street.