late night and rain wakes me, a downpour,
wind thrashing in the leaves, huge
ears, huge feathers,
like some chased animal, a giant
dog or wild boar. thundering and shivering
windows; from the tin roof
the rush of water.
i lie askew under the net,
tangled up in damp cloth, salt in my hair.
when this clears there will be fireflies
and stars, brighter than anywhere,
which i could contemplate at times
of panic. light years, think of it.
screw poetry, it's you i want,
your taste, rain
on you, mouth on your skin.
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