Rain: Detroit

look out the window
through glass that is
100 years old;
hard and so clear

every swirl, pit
and bend makes the
City a colorless
kaleidoscope

too much coffee;
was a pot full
of Hope
on the stove.

this work must be done
Thy Will be done
slanting, pouring Rain
long raindrops follow

each other into the ground
like a train,
vanishing into
the distance

jacket is already
heavy and cold;
shoes now loose.
balding head now

apparent.

Rain not of this clime,
coming counter-clockwise
from the east.
created on the far side

of the Tropic of Cancer
Father Africa &
Mother Atlantic
rain falling in Detroit:

conceived
in
another
hemisphere

cold runny nose,
and the squish-squash and
occasional squeak
of numb feet in your shoes

sounds like sex;
and you laugh.
and your throat
hurts.

Internet-less pornography
and you cough.
sounds like intercourse,
sure

no warmth;
not a moan of pleasure. No
taste? taste the bitter rain,
all that is seen is hard;

the pavement. the city

but you reach
where you set off for,
so long ago
this morning.

they hand you
a dry towel;
pressing it to your eyes;
you can feel the warm

hands of God on your face