Tempest's Bane

A tropical storm that was once a hurricane

roils over the land

like a hand

swiping hair strands

across the scalp,

parting slanting trees

to one side

to scratch an itch.

Walls press in 

and restless thoughts

and organs

blame themselves 

for fog 

and ineffectual desires

and self-destructive desires, 

and ineffectual, self-destructive desires.

I have plenty of candles and batteries.

Friends lose power.

I invite them over

but no one comes.

Jupiter is the closest 

to Earth now

than it will be again 

for 59 more years.

So bright each night

that it trumps

the North Star 

as Saturn looks on 

wantonly.

Mercury steps back

to watch

Enlil spread laced fingers,

hears him laugh