The Chinook and Monsoons have no effect.
Bring rain or snow, sleet or hail.
The Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn
Can shift or stay.
The wadi and oasis can pool or dry.
Fogs can roll, jet streams can carry their worst;
Hurricanes and tornadoes can wreck havoc.
This is my Kouri, my Oued,  myTog.

All the animals are welcome to eat and drink.
There's plenty.
Migration is unnecessary.
The watering holes are wet or arid.
The desert can bloom or hide.
The skylights can shine or dim;
Moons can be full, new or in between.
This is my Nahal, and my Nala,
This is my Dry Season.

As expected,
Feast is followed by famine;
Plenty by scarcity.
Inhale, exhale.

I shoot a shot of Jamie,
Having watched it pour,
That dram of gold
Eclipsing all that shines.
That one diluvial ounce:

Then my cave calls.
This is my Akhet.
My Wet Season.
I enter sapien-like
And grow hair.
The animals scatter.
The cave fills with bones and bottles.
I eventually emerge
With the changing of the season,
With the return of reason,
And see;
Then hope
My dim familiar shadow
From the dry season
Will lengthen.
All I need is water.

Sell your dope.
Sell the last of it
and the first of it.

No, don't rail it tonight,
you know you'll just end up
shooting it tomorrow.

Sell your dope.
Sell it cheap
and sell all of it.

Buy roses,
buy chocolates,
buy gas.

Ask her on a date,
to the movies,
to dinner.

Sell your dope,
and kiss her.
What is more important?

You know what is more important.
Your high will last 4 hours, maybe five.
The feeling of her lips will linger.

The feeling of her lips will linger.
Sell your dope,
fall in love.

the rain comes to wash away the sins of yesterday
so that new life might bloom
droplets of water clinging to bare limbs
become paintings of flowers by the morning
and you could use a little rain right about now
head as heavy as your sleepless eyes
stomach as tight as your constantly clenched fists
at night you get lost within the trappings of your mind
a dark maze of funhouse mirror illusions
and you pray for relief
prayers which do not come with answers
so you you search for something to hold on to
just for a little longer
but these solutions are lead weights disguised as floatation devices
and those water wings melt beneath the unforgiving sun
you so tired
you so willing to let go
so willing to be saved by whatever arms may find you
the couch is laughing at you
the TV is egging you on
and that girl who just walked by -
I think her name is nothingness -
looks so **** good
that you are way past the point of seduction
another day goes by only to become weeks
to become months to become years
to become a life of “if only”

do not be fooled by those
who only profess wisdom in times of darkness
these wolves dressed to be lambs
these monsters under your bed
they are not your friends
a match is useless without a strike
and a blazing fire is irrelevant in the absence of cold and darkness
take these times and wear them on your sleeve
let them be the reason you shine so bright
so that you might light up another’s darkness