There’s the ache of rain in the air

Releasing me from this summer suffocation

Lightning bolts burn shocking tattoos into my skin

A frozen anchor, a blonde devil

I walk barefoot out onto the street

All the way to the grand palace librio on the hill

I pick up Hemingway’s shotgun

And carry it around crucifixion style

Through the high halls of written words

The rain is coming in through sexy slits in the ceiling

The electric stripes in the sky illuminate the intimate darkness

And loneliness is heavy and heartbroken

Through the aisles of all that the world ignores now

Precious, inanimate glows cascade down their caves of isolation

They make love through satellites now

It’s hand-held schizophrenic lust at the press of a button…

Thunder gnaws the city and begins to sail away

Rolling eastward to the farmlands

Where Farmer Black and Blue

Sweeps incoherently…

And I can hear the motion of the swoosh, swoosh

When I huddle beneath my breakfast table

And start yelling at a loaf of bread.