Rain

I’ll be as cryptic
and dramatic
and vague as I want
– thank you very much.

Call it a Challenge, call it
a flee from Stasis, call it
Redundant, call it
whatever you want to call it.

I spit these ideas
in puddles of acid rain
that the world has so graciously
littered my sidewalk with –
the sidewalk I have to go down every morning
to invest face time
for cold, hard, cash.

And when I come back,
after a full day of having to keep
my mouth shut –
I stomp in that puddle so hard
to see impact
just to prove “I still got it.”

And then, rain. Spit. Repeat –
but I know part of me is in there somewhere.
Reabsorbed into the dirt,
evaporating into the sky
so that next time the rain falls

maybe, just maybe –
it won’t burn as much
when the world spits on you.

And now though my mouth is dry, I’ll still try –

Because I know
that the few people
that care enough to read and
are curious enough to think and
are bold enough to talk about it with me

are the only ones who even notice their own burns.

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~ by cptgibbs on July 4, 2010.

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