These are the faces of my fear-
A roaring deluge hurtling towards
our delicate teacup, perched so
precariously between the devil
and the deep blue sea-
or the big brown river
and the lake, as the case may be..
I think I’m warranted a little drama,
a little paranoia when a storm of
this magnitude is ambling its
mighty way in my vicinity.
We’ve battened down the hatches
and though I’m putting off
the agonizing task of choosing
what I will take with me-
the tiny cache of treasures I can’t
afford to lose and a change of clothes-
I think I’ve narrowed it down to
my mother’s fiddle and my doll,
Annathema that Violet made for me.
And a small box of precious photographs,
if there is room. I can only hope it swerves
eastward, and our town, our lovely home
is spared this monstrosity..
I love a thick sassy storm, I truly do-
but this is the widowmaker kind
that turns my marrow to slush
and I’m not fucking around.
I think we leave tomorrow morning
and head west, to avoid the logjam
when the mayor announces
a mandatory evacuation.
And if I’m wrong, and all we get
is some tossing limbs and a heap of rain-
well, I’ll be jumping for joy in Texas.
I don’t like the idea of New Orleans
underwater and torn to bits.
Please no. And thank you.
And just think what a lovely day it was-
golden and elysian, gamboling with
a few of my favorite dears-
wasn’t I just getting my ass kicked
at air hockey a few short hours ago?
Oh golly, but these things do
throw me into quite a tizzy.