Sunday, September 10, 2017

pressure sensitive

sirens wail out on 19
down mc mullen booth and sunset point.
someone's a cardiac arrest, the wind's 
picking up enough to shudder trees behind me.
cat five would rip this porch roof off, carry
the walls of netting into the bay,
nail a power pole to the front door maybe
go thru kitchen window. the scheflerra
weaves through our electric umbilical
 feed to this shelter where inside
the tv runs non stop adult swim. 
  in the carribean just a few days ago
someone else witnessed clouds
 recirculating ominously
through  rain's veil, upper cloud movement 
churning a canopy of camphors and palms
 watched the pappya crowns flutter, 
the still green
but good for cooking if you know
the recipes, barely moves someone
thought about harvesting 
but decided to wait for the storm to pass

there's a lull now, the rain hits with small 
pellets, little b.b.s. i keep wanting to escape
through writing but in a few hours there
may not be any power left
to make the cookies
that will sustain us through any
 survival that may come. 


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