i heard
the storm
outside.

rivers of rain, like streams of sweat,
dribbled down the drywall of my room
through the holes in the insulation
and the faulty, redneck-rigged flue

it felt
a bit
like May.

can't blame myself for being
discomfitted by rain in december
but the snow that falls in march
bothers me much more.

i saw
my
reflection

in the tepid pools leaking on my floor
winking back uncomfortably
as mold grows in our walls