flashflood
warnings sound
i have my
things gathered
on my makeshift
raft waiting
for the tide
to sweep
me away

fresh water
bags of granola
a modern day
huck finn
with a slightly
cleaner vocabulary
splashing down
the swollen rivers
which were once
major highways

pruney fingers
grasp the coarse rope
keeping my vessel
mostly together
as the waves
bully a fool
dreaming of landing on
a more hopeful shore
the clouds obscure
feathered forms
flying in circles
just above and
i cannot tell if
they are seagulls
or vultures

let me sink
beneath these
turbulent waters
another atrophied
dreamer drowned
bones picked clean
in a field of
swaying kelp
my many sins
an oil slick
on the undertow