Rain splattering, sounds fluttering, floundering dreams
through rippling streams, hair unfurling, water current swirling,
leaves whirling, a gale of extremes.
Reeling head, charging ahead eddying thoughts and theories,
obsessive compulsive tropes, deranged hopes and flurries.
Unthink this image, unwrestle this scrimmage,
unutter this promise, ominous torrents.
With my head unhinged, my stomach twinged, I flicked through the books to see
if there was a certain Mrs. or Mr. to prescribe some words for me.
A plan of development, a sure resettlement, perhaps to Locust Street.
Weather reports every minute or so.
Rain till the end of day.