how very 3
dimensional lightning is,
a jagged pear flung earthward,
a shining pole connecting
the eternal fuck between earth and sky,
perhaps trees are just earths futile attempt
to return the favor,
then the leaves are for decoration only,
i like to hang on my back from the earth,
a precarious balance on a spinning rock sphere,
the only thing keeping me from falling
or flying,
that can be
in other ways,
how very clinging is the rain,
rain is not arbitrary,
it runs down my face and my naked chest making my faded jeans a part of my skin,
and moist,
sweat of the gods,
55 miles to buffalo and my road goes forever into the rain
waiting to part my hair with electricity,