Tag: portland

fluttering-slips:

Late Night

Late night and rain wakes me, a downpour,
wind thrashing in the leaves, huge
ears, huge feathers,
like some chased animal, a giant
dog or wild boar. Thunder & shivering
windows; from the tin roof
the rush of water.
I lie askew under the net,
tangled in damp cloth, salt in my hair.
When this clears there will be fireflies
& stars, brighter than anywhere,
which I could contemplate at times
of panic. Lightyears, think of it.
Screw poetry, it’s you I want,
your taste, rain
on you, mouth on your skin.

Margaret Atwood

No Rain

And then
I heard
the sound
of rain
that’s the
air-conditioning
but what
makes
me
want
the rain
in here.
That’s you
says
Chris
being con-
nected
but no
I hoped
the darkness
meant
something.
I put
the heat
on before
I left
so I
could
come
in to
something
warm
not cold
bereft.
But it
wasn’t that.
Just
grey cold
drunken
grey
a day
full of
sticks and
plans and
flowers
for you.
I want
to wrap
them
in bamboo
or clay
I want
to hang
them on your
door
opening
the marvelous
concrete
truths
of what
you’re doing
now with
your hands
and ideas
I have
a secret
for you
the rain
is falling
through
a screen
I see
many of
us
I hear
a roar
what’s that
I asked
Chris.
That’s the
future
he said.
It’s
true

—Eileen Myles