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.