Pages

Thursday, April 18, 2024

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.

No comments:

Post a Comment