my city



in my city
the traffic cops seethe sarcasm
and the coffee stand man
gives a big silver smile
he’s happy to see the people
he hasn’t seen before

in my city
the streets change directions without warning
and russian cab drivers
talk about anemic wives who hate A/C
we pick up margaritas to go
because we can

in my city
a newspaper can mean
a million different things
omens and guiding lights are scattered
and we are all bound together
by unexplainable circumstance




the rain came down in yards of yarn
flooding orchard with a wink
crisp cracks of laced lightning
tore through the heavens and
made our eyes tear with base fear
huddled under scaffolding grown men
shed their shoes and ran with
their children to play in the
lanes of fresh-brewed rivers
while some simply strolled
having given up the fight
nature is always right