the first chords
of thunder sounds
the leaves of the trees
vibrate indistinctly
as the branches curl
the wind builds
into a crescendo of
the wailing damned
screeching madness
under murky gray
the room is filled
with the dishwasher
churning rhythmically
a metronome calling
the unfolding tempest
and my heartbeat taps
in echolocation to
bring forth the demons
hanging upon rusted
hooks along my inner
tenderly throbbing
insignificance

the first drops fall
timdily upon the
dirty cars just outside
gaining confidence
in unfurled rage
hammering a symphony
of disavowed evaporations
a cyclical destruction
straining apathy from
the unbroken gray haze
to pummel the city
with tears of disingenuous
purposeful misunderstanding

the rain sizzles
spraying acidic drizzle
tendrils of smoke
rises from pitted asphalt
a hissing congregation
in dreary downfalling demise
not nearly enough
to wash away the dirt
in accumulated sorrows
leaving scuffed up
surrenders to barely
wet the dehydrated angst
permeating every
yellow blade of grass

i welcome the storm
longing to be
flash fried in a
blast of super heated
plasma crackling down
from the emptiness
swaddling my broken head
shivering in palpations
as the temperature
drops and barometric
pressures throttle
another hollow saturday
staring out into
the rain hoping to be
washed away with the
styrofoam cups rattling
across the empty lot