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A Walk in the'.

Scott Shay


Big fat Buddha bellied rain
Bursting like rockets
On the hood of my car

Me sitting porch worn
Like the chipped leper chair;
In a sphere of screen
And wicker.

Pounding like thuds
Of liquor drawn fists
Or bats against piņatas,

Dam busted sky
Throwing heavy confetti
Through its gauzy walls.

Perimeter lost;
Elemental bombs,
Bust past wire
And Hit me.

Half soaked now
With naturešs fret
The inspired thing to do

Would be to bust right out of here
Like the Sundance Kid,

And throw myself at that gatling sky.

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