Drizzle, mizzle, mizzle, drizzle, drip.
Boiling coffee, gray newspaper, sip.
Boring neighbors upstairs stomp and cough.
In New York, no one’s a theosoph.
Drip, drop, drizzle, drip, drop, drizzle, splash.
Puddles, hurdles, honking, stinky trash.
And “excuse me! Sorry! Getting off?!”
The sky is dull and gray like a damp cloth.
But lo! And don’t get blind! Midst shouts of fear
And joyful cries,
With cherubs at his side,
Lightening the skies,
Dazzling to sight
Westwards he dashes, the radiant charioteer.