A No Good Thunderstorm // Alexis Pope

[iatrogenicmyth]

Dear Hurricane, my name is gentle
release. My name is no, I will not drive
across the country to escape you.
I've named you after my mother-in-law
is how I feel this morning. Tea, because
the coffee tastes like salt. I won't find
you tomorrow under the bed, or out
my window on this cold April where you
hail onto my hair. I'm worried about the wind
blown, how to survive you. I wear this
hopeful, light jacket. Dear hurricane,
I'm afraid to leave you. Brush off my lap
with your heavy fingers. Offer myself
to the fish. Where I find you is out back
on a depressed swing set. We lie
to ourselves about summer. A barefoot
expectation while we wait it out. I ordered
this pizza for you, crafted this birthday
hat, bought the streamers & this banner
& expected something like death
in return. At least something that means
you care enough to hurt me. Float
through me like you mean it, that's what
this is about. Eat this cake like you're
starving, that's what I want. Wash over me
like a hurricane. I need something
more than clean.