Calamity

This morning I crave

the cool of water to paint

my sore throat and my

body how it aches with

it’s wants, it’s want

for water;

Not the whiskey I needed

the night before, or the wine

the night before that

not the coffee that usually

is sipped with the morning

sun no, no, this time

I need water to run clean

and wash away all the

calamity inside of me.