(no subject)

out in the rain
indestructible bubbles drifting
down the roadsides
I walk to an ugly man made lake
still ice-covered, even in the rain
I've renamed it Abaddon
Its real name takes my last name
and I don't feel like being associated.
Everything smells like mud and shit.
The houses look like they could slide away
or even better, sink
into the brown grass, murbling
and muckling as the turtle
takes them to hell.
my pants are soaked through.
a geometric church
teetters
on a hill.
the graves want to become waterslides.
the sky turns flourescant, a flash
The first lightning of the season.
I count my steps as the thunder churns
like a raincloud's hungry stomach
and reach forty three
before it settles, unsatiated.

skipping in gutters, thinking
this is the swamp that brings the spring
this is the rot that brings the rise
this is the muck that leads to May
these are the drops that climb the skies..