rain

i can feel the rain coming,

in my spirit


like the old man

in the rocking chair

on his front porch,

i feel it in every bone,

every trick limb and

aching joint


a sweeping sense of despair,

as my head passes through a

deluge

something similar to

a drive through car wash,

only… less convenient

a team of pressurized fire hoses

and huge, comic pom poms,

thwacking me

right in my

frontal cortex

as the weather makes its approach,

a sweeping sense of despair,

as the weather makes its

slow, arrogant approach

i know its imminent arrival,

often hours beforehand…

before the first cloud

rears its muddy black,

disapproving face


my bones crack and my hopes

sag

nothing fazes

the stupor,

a dark, somnolent plague

of inefficient sleep,

brought on by

a simple change of

barometric pressure…

a slight swing of

humidity;


a little water.


a little water can

drown

my

w

o

r

l

d

never approaching

the front page,

ranking only

section c in the newspaper

the c section

opens my skull

and dumps that precious

baby brain on the

cold, tile floor

kicking it into the corner,

near the waste can


those morons at the paper

ought to recognize

that murder is more of a

front page deal

they view it as

a little spill on the carpet,

it’s only water…

don’t cry…

i won’t cry.


but i will sleep;

i am drugged

and stuffed into a canvas bag

by this natural sedative;

carted off to the ocean

of inactivity

and dumped in,

left for dead

with a note,

pinned to my scalp:


“you will submit to my dominance.

you will curl up

in a soggy, little ball

and wait

for me to pass”


i have survived, seemingly

intolerable fires of the spirit,

unquenchable flames of the heart

earth scorching plumes of fire,

setting daily life alight

i’ve dealt with dozens of

major catastrophes,

not to mention hundreds of

tiny conflagrations,

the little fires that need putting out

only to be doused

and completely


extinguished


by a little water


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

I am getting back on to my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. But other, patrons-only content will be available to patrons, there.

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Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares.

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