the rain is still falling
the old house is crying
year after year
idiots don't read signs
but I am looking at your children's faces
small as they are, how thin and blank
I'm trying not to be bothered by their
stinking unhappiness
next agenda of this global warming thing:
spreading the rumor of your misbehavior
of your not learning anything from the
damaged, puddled road
how it ended your husband's life
of what has made your stinking children
at tea time, they chat leisurely and
drink cups of rainwater
their faces yellowing
the vegetables on absinthe
forget, forgot, forgotten
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