Poisonous Rain

Poisonous Rain

A man hacking up his dinner, maybe from last December.

A chubby Spanish kid laughs, obnoxiously as he hangs

On the end of a pole

And his fat mother finds equal humor in the display.

I just want to sleep . . .

I need help, I told the therapist today. Well, it’s only uphill from here, he said back (sounds like half a dozen trains?)

Smoking clouds underneath the umbrella.

Can they tuck away the pain? The umbrella the is tucked underneath my elbow could

Create a it’s resemblance, it’s flimsy shield  a dash of gray against the

Flood, which threatens to drown the light at the tip of my tongue

Until it retreats like a dying snake . . . no more the poison dart for it, to taste each

Line comes like a segment

Piece by piece it douses the world in a torrential lake

Slashing against a sheet of gray held fast in the crook of my

Human hold onto its life.

Could I read a message between the stars tonight

While the lines come around

My stone cold heart like a silver, black widow’s create,

Thoughts coming out of the Heavens like,

The words that are inside

My brain will they, too, expire inside me, as if

Dried up after the Heavens have made

The flame of my cigar wither?

Or will they anger my heart and bring it

Out again, ready to taste

It’s poisonous tempter, until the rain comes

And makes it once again retract

it’s dagger.

I need help, I told the therapist again. He said equable

It’s only uphill from this point.

I answered you mean another half a dozen   

Trains.