rain-sacked

October 3, 2009 12:00AM

the crows natter and
croon to spangled
splatter and
splat and the
mish-mash tangle of
tree-soaked
rain.

been drinking since noon and
thirty and meditating on the art of being
broken
in all conjugations and conjoined
verbs.

mercurial and
bludgeoned, i talk in spandrels,
lofted and unhinged, a
spluttering
nonsense gruel.

noon to nouns to
invisible rainbows, and i thought i
heard a word as i walked away
but i cannot be so sure.

the crows give way to
crickets, sauntering and
nonplussed. i give them leave and look
for a liquor bruised.

(i thought i heard a word, but now i cannot
be so sure.)

before the snows,
i wonder if it’s time to
move on.