the dark cloud summer

it's always hanging around.
when i finally get moving
in the morning it flows into my
screen door, banging. brings
rain that follows me to work.
i thought i'd be doing better
getting there on time but
i just dont give a fuck.
when school begins i'll have
to be up at the cracked out dawn
so i'm taking it easy now.

son's been in hibernation,
weeding up- skinnying out.
i've been trying to decide
if hell is other people
or just inside my head.

in the evenings i pull
back sheer blue panels , open
broken venetian blinds.
a tree glimmers with thunder.

i thought i was so clever
fixing the busted screws
with duct tape. but the wind
has other messages for me.
ghetto screens, aluminum rabies,
bouncing baby reductions.

right now it hovers like a weightless mass
flashes of brilliance in the distance.
i want to capture them like fireflies
on the edge of the sea, but they just
wink out into memories washed in rain.