Sometimes it just rains all day.
the sun and the moon and the stars
all take the day off,
Get all gloomy and introspective and ****.
drop deep thoughts
and fill up puddles
and bring meaning to things like
windshield wipers,
and lackluster poetry.


I'm still sixteen,
out much too late,
perched up on the steps of the old bank.
searching for reason
in the glare of small town streetlight.
I'm still seven
when it would just pour down,
I mean literally pour down,
in buckets and all that.
it doesn't rain like that anymore.
Not here. Not anymore.


A storm-front has been working it's way
up out of the southwest
since i have existed.
certainly much longer than that.
it's carved a path from caveman to Kentucky.
and here we are
continuously inspired
by water from the sky.


I'm going to sleep.
it just feels right.
I hope that it will rain all night.
I sleep well.