IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY POEM…
(’80)
-.-.-.-.-.–.-.-.-.–.-.-.-.-.–.-.-.-.-
-Words of thunder,
thoughts of gloom…
-Three billion and thirty-five,
three billion and thirty-six…
(it’s hard keeping track
of all these rain drops…)
-Three billion and forty…
-My stanzas are all wet,
my phrases read soggy,
my leak-proof psyche
needs patching up.
-Time to wrap myself
with the poncho
of my discontent,
and remember the sun.
.-.-.-.–.-.-.-.-.-.-.–.-.-.-.-.-.–.-.-.-