I. I like right rain
Front rain is too wet on the toes
left rain is unpredictable
my chair is immobile and to the right
Well.
mobile and hefty
so I live on my porch with the right rain
People say they "feel" it coming
and they do.
their eyes grow grayer
their arms are breezy
and this helps
but for all their future talk, boy do they scurry
When it darkens, the uneasy drivers come out
and drive 'round and 'round collecting
kids swinging on monkey bars
and not-quite-yet-ripe tomatoes
and pet squirrels on the stoop
Wisking Away
The brave cling to the rail
wind whistling
and so are they
They call the television stations and say, "It has reached the ground!"
like spacestation moderators
The dreary affirm their dreariness behind piles of curtains
II. Then it starts
The wind chatters and churns
muddy bubbles all over the front yard
content sighs all over my town
It came, you know?
It was wet dark rain
It always is
And the frantic, sweeping droll strands from their face, are in fact relieved
It's just regular
And how marvelous regular is
They can shut the books
They can delve too far
They can bask in florescence
They can grow one thousand cattle on a hill
They can destroy a smirk
But I'd like to see them stop the rain
And when the world is covered in a ball of plastic
Father calls me
To my right rain.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
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Damn. Thats just about all I have to say!
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