Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Day 384 July 19 2015 Rain
The clouds condense and observe us close,
the flies fall down to the water's surface,
and the smoke of freighters trails along their wake.
The fishermen are beaten pilgrims, brass...
their feet cymbal shod
and fulgur lightning!
The ozone fragrance of the storm front comes,
vast alkali cleansing of the tongues;
now veils of rain obscure the sun bright pudenda!
Oppressed by plaguey gnats and flies,
like Egyptians who refuse
to let the fishes go.