The Flood
By Quincy L., Phoenix, AZ
One drop and the flood begins
... the gritty-fresh smell of rain-kissed city pavement
You chuck fallen oranges at me, as if the quick action will thaw my icicle-bones
As we dodge, unseen, behind houses where tragic children
dream of planned playdates and mini iPods.
The confused exchange of a window attendant; fries curl, Cokes go on diets
And the happiness we ordered comes super-sized at no extra charge.
The fire giggles and a teapot sings
As we discuss the dominant alleles which we share
and my X and your Y meet
Somewhere in the middle
Of a hailing afternoon in the springtime of my life
These moments of ordinary extravagance, reawakened
As my clock chants and the sirens outside scream with the urgent pang of
bad news: reality.
I exalt a flawless romance
Perfectly dotted with quarrels and moments of awkward silence.
After all, you always thought my eyes looked beautiful when the rain fell ...
oval tears of memories we never really made.
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