Rainstorming

You're gonna come down in sheets 
And I'm gonna take it
Because I need it
It's a reluctant pummeling
It's a rejoice with a relapse
Sick gray daze
hazes of rain
beating me, bathing me
scathing frigidity
drifting over me

I measure in inches
what you've given
gathered sand 
to keep you at bay
and pray for more
I've raided stores
And boarded up
for your arrival

Come to me
Flood my streets
I'm gonna curse
And vow 
to sleep through it all
but I'll admit,
I am enthralled
watching and waiting
for the onslaught
peeking through curtains
watching puddles turn 
to lakes turn to seas of 
all that we need
and I will squeal
"Please let up."

And it will pound on
until it's done.

You could always get more than you can handle and be grateful for it.

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The Future

In a few minutes

we will have wasted a few more

looking at the black spot

just beyond the headlights,

waiting for things

to come into view,

waiting for good things to come,

waiting for the future to arrive

at gate B42

and greet it with hugs

as if it will be different

than the last time we waited

for something to arrive,

forgetting once we can see it,

we are bored.

In a few minutes

we will do things

that have been done before

feel feelings

that have been felt before,

but with different objects around us.

We will charge forward

holding remnants of familiarity,

answering to routine

and perhaps foreign traffic

coming in, and talk about it

as if we know what it is

before it arrives;

as if we are sudden clairvoyants

without an ego-biased agenda.

In a few minutes

we will realize that all

of anything coming or went

may be a another version

of something

that has happened before

and the only true distinction is

our individual

human

experience…

which is now.

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