hurricane

god only knows when hurricane Jane
will strike down in some broken-hearted trailer park
where people are only coming and always going and never staying
for long
you whirl like a rabid banshee, pain hurled here, angst tossed there
snakes and ladders fallen askew, Richard Nixon on acid, dice thrown against
velvet, America the brave, litigation, litigation, migration, aggravation,
backwards geese, dead mice, hail and thunder and pounding rain, sucking and
pulling and pushing your way through life
and I'm just going to pull back a few hundred kilometers
so I can watch the devastation from a safe perch
with binoculars and a glass of port, and maybe a twelve dollar cigar
because I'm way over thirty now and I've learned
that trying to get to the heart of a hurricane
is a difficult journey
even when she wants you there <

© Thomas Trofimuk

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