Post by Cy Skywalker on Sept 1, 2006 12:05:49 GMT -5
“Aw, that’s sad. The storm’s depressed.”
“What?!”
(Sadly) “It’s a tropical depression.”
I could imagine the concert-goers
starting up into the sky and watching the Thread-rain
freefalling its heads across the navy sky
thinking, never minding as the water touches down
–the electric riff cuts through me perfectly–
The storm wishes they’d just see how sad it is.
Darkening the sky is the only way
it knows to alleviate madness–
caused by shame and blame–
it knows not that humans too express
depravity in flailing hurricane-arms and thunder-teeth
lightning-sour-self deprecation.
At one turn ago when not madness but joy
at the flinging winds swept hope and music away
not a tropical depression but the powerful
storm–
swept over the heads of concert-goers
now it saddens for destruction so founded on regret.
“What?!”
(Sadly) “It’s a tropical depression.”
I could imagine the concert-goers
starting up into the sky and watching the Thread-rain
freefalling its heads across the navy sky
thinking, never minding as the water touches down
–the electric riff cuts through me perfectly–
The storm wishes they’d just see how sad it is.
Darkening the sky is the only way
it knows to alleviate madness–
caused by shame and blame–
it knows not that humans too express
depravity in flailing hurricane-arms and thunder-teeth
lightning-sour-self deprecation.
At one turn ago when not madness but joy
at the flinging winds swept hope and music away
not a tropical depression but the powerful
storm–
swept over the heads of concert-goers
now it saddens for destruction so founded on regret.
