I heard that
It rained outside again;
not that type of storm that you hear,
loudly:
the red reigning showers,
burning pines—ap—peals,
skies, a loose sieve
Our tempest, long-winded—
hourglass shards twisting time
into silent sand mounds:
Nightshades’ severe temperament
Illy-oozing dystopic ether
Malleable breaths betrayed
Brick-and-mortar dust
Yellow buzzers’ sundown
I can’t breathe,
We cried for one—an “other” again;
not that type of chorus that you forget,
accidentally:
mourning in echo—low occasion,
bird songs in fall—set to blues,
free dim innuendos, a swansong
All of us, caught in her eye—
tip toeing tight ropes
over the rickety time we got:
99 problems, & a weight in sea is still but
one, bleached, synthetic scion, drifting in zero-sum—
one fiery drill away from was
