Downpour
The rain savages downtown witha wet rage as mad as Niagra Falls
drenching people transformed into
zombies consumed with desperation
seeking shelter kicking up stylish legs
in acrobatic postures running, straddling,
stretching into taxicabs slamming doors,
striding breathlessly into hotel lobbies,
bars, glimmering cafeterias staffed
by uniformed personnel. The rain
pelts the smooth street with the fury
of brimstone falling on Gomorrah,
a checkerboard of panoramic windows
climbing toward the wrathful sky reveal
not one moral person as office girls
stand behind a glass door giggling as if
they've never seen rain in their lives,
nevermind Gotterdammerung,
the gutter has become a brimming moat,
the sidewalk tree is whipped by wind,
I see the maelstrom vulnerable in my shirt,
I have no umbrella, no coat.
Poetry by Peter J. Kautsky
Read 934 times
Written on 2009-08-02 at 03:25
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
shells |
Elle |
Brian Oarr |
|
NicholasG |
cordell |
Texts |
by Peter J. Kautsky Latest textsMichelleMalbec This is March Avocado Acronymic Apoplexia |
Increase font
Decrease