Micah Bateman
IF EVERYWHERE THE SOUND OF RAIN BREAKING
Pentameter rain, maddening.
To make a guest of madness
In a house made to shelter,
A hearth by which to be made
Dry. A fire calls
And smoke relays.
Imperious wind, these leaves left
Trembling, all this
Detritus of wedding
Sky to breath, roving clouds
Of pests destroying
Miles of cornscape. Imperious sky,
Summer called, wants his
Letterman’s jacket back. My mother
Sinks a blackened pan
Into a dishwater bath,
Gulf still slick with oil, rainbow swirls,
Several rains over several nights.
My father strings a deer up
By her neck, lets it drain,
The ground fed by more
Than morning, one finding
Oneself in heaps of things
One can’t be made
Aware of but one tries.
Sloshing down a walk,
Yellow galoshes, a girl
In a rubber coat,
Paisley dress peeking out
With each arm’s stride,
Something on an eave
Sliding frictionless,
Hypotenuse, gutterward.
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