Natural Violence

“What stops the rain

    if not desire,”

jokes the rippled windowpane.

    Frozen fire

laves each desiccated blade.

    Living dead,

the unenlightened shade

    shakes its head.

Let he who hasn’t sinned

    be the first

to stop the stones of wind

    and murder thirst.

Another brief thundershower

    washes the soil,

leaves it dry as flour,

    water under oil —

flash-floods down the street,

    filling sewers,

desultory ending to the heat.

    A man lures

a twelve-year-old into his car

    and disappears.

She is found, not far

    from home, in tears.

Lightning is the veins of his 

    hand tearing

the limb from the tree.  Thunder is

    his swearing.

Falling out of purple sky

    like fists, hail

answers every answer “why?”

    Crops fail.

Farmer sends his milk cow

    to slaughter

for want of hay.  Now 

    he drinks water.

They dredge the river and tow

    the flatboats

until the water will not flow

    and nothing floats.