Monsoon Rains

My CW teacher loves this one the most -- I don't.

Monsoon rains are not gentle.

They fall all at once,

Break into tiny, forceful streams

Crash against the concrete floors

Scrub away the listlessness

That sticks to my body

Like a wet, plastic, raincoat.

Sometimes I am lying in bed

Or weaving in and out of rooms

When I hear it start,

Like a room full of people

Breaking out in applause for

Me.

Monsoon rains are lonely.

The streets empty

And people disappear

And I expand,

Filling up the stone balcony,

Then the street,

Then the entire village

Until I don’t think I can ever

Burst.