WEBVTT

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OK.

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Back to my own here.

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Here's a poem called "Squall".

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Again, a very simple title.

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And it was just the
idea of when I was back

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at Stony Brook for
a while, we used

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to get socked in on these sort
of real rainy foggy nights.

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And the squall was
just simply to mention

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that this is the kind of
weather that's outside

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and I guess inside.

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"The sea foams and the harness
of the hidden moon, rain

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drums steadily on a
tin gutter as I read.

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Poe's words piercing
like spindle back chairs.

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His storm dark past thumbing
through my brain in the designs

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on the rain washed windows.

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Kicking up my
suspicion of the leaf

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stick figures along the
washed out path as I am

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and afraid for his world to be
on the edge of this unrevealing

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night.

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I would sleep, but
my head so clogged,

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the pressure of
the blood breathes

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loudly against my
breathing like another.

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And a beacon from the lighthouse
of the Sheriff pinwheels

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and the rain.

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As I watched the
window, not knowing

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what might tap on the pain,
arrest this other tide."