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Storms (Free verse) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
Crackling clouds interrupt the drive
Of a man bent on distance and need
To talk God out of sanctimonious
Moan-ings of celebrity and thunder.
The beach is not right
The desert has gone vague
Mountains, now small
Distance themselves well
From land-slide and flash-flood.
A packing house packs
Guts of shredded domestication
For housewives on cell-phones
Landroving themselves into
Another year of plastic and
Urgent mouth-fucking.
Were I the rain?
I'd wash them all away
With a wipe of wet hand
And a million slapped pounds
Of rock, mud, and death.
But I am a poet
So today, in this storm
I will instead; dream the impossible
And teach my son
To light a fire.
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Arithmetic Mean: 8.142858
Weighted score: 5.8452444
Overall Rank: 1586
Posted: December 28, 2004 6:10 PM PST; Last modified: December 28, 2004 6:10 PM PST
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