monsoon on corrugated plastic
in what is fashionably called an "outdoor room"
cacophony. i can't even hear myself unless i yell
during a lull - even then, only just intelligible.
water creeping around paving stones where the
spray has yet to reach.
for the first time in my life, i wonder if i caused the deluge
as a dramatically correct soundtrack.
the thunder makes my ears ring: a call to war.
i sit in pleasant deafness, thankful i don't have to hear
myself think.
