Shapeless rain.

Shapeless rain.

I look at the passage

Of days

The way people come and go

The absurdity of motion

On either side of the window,

The implausibility

Of a rainbow

Without a light source.

If it wasn't for the rain

I would forget

There was an outside.

I wouldn’t want to be remembered

As the guy who invented rain.

I prefer precipitation

It has gravitas

And anybody can have a nice ass

If they walk half as far.

Some people carry a jar

On their heads

I don’t

But there is a certain logic

In always arriving with your own

Water supply.

It can open doors

That otherwise would remain closed

And that reminds me of the inevitably

Of decline.

Nothing is as defining as death

The traffic of people

Heading in that direction

Is a log jam

I was trampled by the stampede

Toward it

I am pleased

To finally accept agency

Doing nothing is not an option.

I swim against the tide

It is more than stepping out

I know which way I’m going.

The view from this side

Is less confusing

But the rain,

I would have given it a better name,

But the rain

Is drier on the inside

Which is something

Worthy of attention.

There was a time

When the future

Was less bright

More uncertain then, than now.

I am out of the rain

I have stopped swimming

To admire the moment

The feel of solid ground

I have a water source

An ambivalence toward

Unessential motion

A fluid response.

And I can drink

Whenever I want to.