Hurricane Poem

Enter stage right
First act and scene
And all the rest, sure
Your senses deceive you 
Your eyes convince you
That watching the wind gust
Will change its direction
Dampen its force
Your stomach aches
Holds hostage all you’ve managed
Partially digested, you think
Your tongue moves to make declarations of 
We want
What follows inaudible
Over her cackle
An intermission 
A dictator’s pause
Mercy, maybe
An argument could even be made for
Fair play
The fascination takes hold
And your ears scream to be soothed
By lies disguised as guidance
Sounding loudest
Has the abomination been prepared to your liking?
Am I boring you?
A story expertly retold and sure to be again
And soon, too
With bloodied, unmanicured hands
She takes her bow
Center stage and silent
You stand in the eye of a hurricane
And hear Dickinson clearly
Beauty is not caused.
It is.

xx

(Another) Hurricane Poem

The end of the world is on its way
It seems it is
Time to decide
How do you want to be remembered?

How do you want to go out?

I sit watching a palm outside as it
Violently jerks left, left, and left
I imagine her on my couch
In the sun
I thank Goodness I’m falling in love 

What better way to go out?

Leaves and branches thrashed about
Reluctant to leave
Me here
What would be your last words, anyway?

How do you want to go out?

Threat of disaster, sound the alarm
Permission to ruin my life 
Fight, flight, or freeze
You there

Exceptional and individual
Unapologetic and curious
Simultaneous truths held with care
What can you control, really?

How do you want to go out?

I stand in its eye
Calm, energized, relieved
Corrected by your two eyes, I stand
Themselves a measure, a standard
No coincidences, really
The clock and its funny way
Occupation and anticipation
Do you want to be my full-time job?

Do you want to go out?

xx