A
Drop.

Then it came
Pirouetting.
It came clattering
It came guttering
with furore and fight
with rhythm and rhyme
like many dancing feet.

On steel roofs
On downy pines
and baobabs
and old cracked earth
Pattering and shimmering
drawing dust from dirt
women and men from houses
enshrining the sky with their trembling hands.

The old man who visits
in December and is loaded
with blustery showers
has forgotten us.

Lady July who enjoys
dancing in creek beds
draped in ferns and flowers
now has eczema instead.

The summer of smile
and flush I know well
has unexpectedly
become a dance with fire.

It's a 6 hour
Youtube
Mozart mix

Yes I need my classical fix!

This life
Is some kind
Of tragedy I think

Once I ****** right
In the sink

Wandering here
Wandering there

And who really gives a care

Reading about Camu
And the absurd

I embrace the absurdity
Of it all

And from my Christian perspective
I believe man has had a great fall

From His purpose the Creator intended
So divine
This little light inside
(Im going to let it shine)

The problem is
I just don't care
About the American way

American dollars
Are ****** worthless
Okay!

And so I refuse to work
At some type of job

I think I will sit in my room
And sob

Life is a problem
Don't you know

Some softcore
Pornographic images
On the computer screen

Lustful indulgences
Fail to satisfy it seems

That woman I saw
In That old school 80's ****
What a *****!

I wear the same
Sweatshirt

About everyday
Just forget fashion,
Okay?

Shelter, food and water
Is what I need
I am not filled with greed

I don't need the Mercedes SUV
That guzzles gas
Yes indeed, I think I will pass

A nation of consumers
Programmed to consume

We ruin our environment
This will be our doom

If it was up to me
I will drain those
Huge swimming pools
Of every friggin'
Celebrity

Those massive homes
In the Hollywood hills
Waste a ton of H20

California is in
An extreme drought
Don't you know?

And all that space
Is a waste too

Humans ruin their
Natural environment
And this makes me
Quite blue :(

The weather plots his journey
Town to town in dead of night
Fields dead and on a gurney
He comes in to make it right

A rainmaker, people call him
A psuedo-scammer others say
He sells himself as godlike
He comes quick and does not stay

He tells people what they wish for
He beats the storm in to their town
He seeds their minds with his tall stories
He promises more green than brown

Like an evangelistic angel
He beats the weather to the ground
He's a salesman like no other
He picks their pockets with no sound

A rainmaker, just a scammer
He works the towns where nothing lives
He is an alchemist non-gratta
He always takes and never gives

He sells snake oil and concoctions
He is a shaman in disguise
He promises rain where none has fallen
There is more moisture in the farmers eyes

He takes credit for a rainfall
He promises gold where once was straw
He's a rumplestiltskin with their feelings
He sells them only what they wish they saw

He may believe in what he tells them
He always puts his name out on a stake
But, can he truly make the skies open
That is a choice the desperate make

Weeping Willow cries,
this drought has lasted for months,
he's dying from thirst.

The long thin-handled edge
of the country, where many
have come to dip their
dipping cups and drink

from rivers diverted into
extreme long and lonely
farm-dedicated ditches,
from the pocketed geography
of blocked up Sierra streams:

how many ways we have
poured our water into
separate cups and worked
at ways to keep it from
its way of life-giving
and of natural flowing.

And now four spins
from the sweating sun,
our lake grounds cracking,
our ground tables slacking,
we must think how to suspend
our dippers, pour our
shared need back into
the source that kills
our thirst. Can we do
this as a people?

Share what is quickly
becoming scarce?
California, land that
brags of leadership--
can we show the world
a peaceable sipping?
All the rivers I ask
seem to answer never.

It's summertime, the drought is here
Water seems gold,  I have this fear
My mind is blocked, going nowhere
Do hearts affect? Nothing is clear

If I'm a drought,
You're a desert storm.