rufe snow

it’s just so
goddamned dreary
even the automatic
lights on the cars
seemed confused
it is a solid slate
a funeral pall
on an otherwise
miserable friday
of traffic and
an inabilty to
express this rampant
manic catastrophe
percolating foamy
hopes over this
torrential slurry
of expected sorrows
cold sheets of rain
listlessly swaying
as the semis send
tidal waves of oil
slick rainwater in
perilous precipitation
red lights flashing
as we hydroplane to
another empty lot
only to stare at
another dour building
i would rather watch
smoldering in the
inclemency of soulcrushing
tempests in tepidly
tenacious thornshowers
drearily dousing a
city of dreamless ache

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