Later at the same address A storm of words reaches flood stage A couch is bobbing in the currents towards its mangled ruin-nexus of matchsticks in cyclonic flow among the renegade trash hanging from the limbs like tinsel
Meanwhile chair heaved through her door Like the river I am not above my rage at this stage of more than enough.... Clever daughter's got my goat Turns my words on dimes Lays into me her score of blame Each blow to drop me further
presses all my buttons at one time despite the flashing Warning! Warning!
She blows-out through the afternoon right past me in a torrent of curses A stubborn perfect storm of words has taken out parental dam and blown out toward the Bay of Freedom to the sorrows of her day
The river may crack its whip But its got nothing on her