Another Hurricane Poem by Francis Dylan Waguespack
tree limbs strewn across a debris-filled riverbed we called our street
Another Hurricane Poem
typical morning orange juice orange yolks smear the kitchen counter first drops hit like pennies then nickels then harder something’s tearing loose next door stilts swaying toilet spitting slipping on wet floor wind finds every crack every fault the house screams at its seams still lost birds in broken light windows gone tree limbs strewn across a debris-filled riverbed we called our street power lines sparking setting fire to the empty house next door someone’s screaming one block over someone’s screaming someone’s screaming no no no no screaming no no no no no one’s coming to help us at least not for days
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