Sunday,
Despite the greyness,
And the steady wind
Thump-thump-thumping branches
Across my Daydream Window,
Poured a steamy smell: coffee
Through the crack under my bedroom door,
Staining my senses,
And peeling my eyes open

It reminded me, Irene,
That right before
You come round,
Teenage girl,
Howling and sobbing in our ears
About things that don’t matter,
The world takes a nap

She’s gotta hold firm soon…
With strong brownish grains,
Almost microscopic, making that impenetrable wall
Below our feet,
The one we never appreciate
And walk all over

The earth’s hidey-holing
All the little animals

They know
Ages before we do
The date and time
Of your unappreciated visit

You’re not ugly, Irene…
You’re a strong girl,
A fierce one

You put on
A spectacular show,
Dancing up the trees
While you toss whispery music
Into the air
With rain-streaked lightning fingers

Then, branches crack,
And tumble,
They’re too tired,
Can’t sway
To that endless beat
Anymore

Cars crumple,
Weak as crimson Coca Cola cans

And walls
On pretty suburbs houses splinter,
Like broken wedding cakes,
With the insides spilling out
And icing melting down the middle

You hate the lights,
They blind you,
So you flick them off easily,
And most of us
Are fine without
Electricity
For now, while you’re still here

But why, Irene,
Must you forget
To turn them back on
Before you leave?

Be considerate!
Lend a hand!
It takes us too long
To fix telephone poles,
Snapped like toothpicks,
All by ourselves

And what about the hot water?
Cold showers
Make me squeal
Like a filthy pig,
And I fight the urge
To skip the freezing waterfall wash,

Because then
I might actually turn into
A grimy, slimy hog

So you see, Irene?
This is why
We refuse to befriend you…

Don’t come back
Until you learn
How to clean up
After your street-smashing parties
On your own