After a fight with my mother

March 22, 2012
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Niagara purses her lips in distaste and the Great Barrier, 
Her purpose lost, opens a gate.
Further west, a Lion shakes out his loosed crown
Listens to the falling whispers of a fallen majesty
But does not roar. People do not scream
When they feel the impatient rumble of disaster in the ground
And see, hear, feel the buildings buckle.
Ocean, bleeding slick black slime, spits salty truth, wailing to Charybdis. 
The fishermen are still smiling when they spill from 
The decks, a tragic cocktail of stillborn resolutions.

The lunatic, the lover and the poet are muted,
Their last insanities sucked into a prerecorded soundtrack.
Whispers start a-buzzing when the fairies go
Children howl into another restless night as tooth 
After tooth studs a barren pillow.

Oh, mother nature, where you been?
You’re a taker and you’ve picked me dry
I’ve followed every rainbow and scoured the earth
No gold, no answers did I find there.
Magic mushrooms poisoned my synapses
And I near drowned in your holy water.
Talk to Niagara, talk to the trees
Call the gnats, call the bees.
Sound the thunder and summon the stars:
The ocean will roar and the moon will howl 
The winds will pull back in high pitched fury.
The swamps, they will sit; stew 
In a toxic mist of rage and the trees
Will weep into the wind, blowing woes to the South.

Do not fight them, mother nature, wait in the skies
Send with the rain the truth -
Rain and rain until they come out 
From their earthen retreats.
And then, mother nature, when the sun
Has beaten them dry, sound the waves.
They will come. 

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