The Nature of Things
The Rainstorm,
The Wind,
The Volcano,
She howled.
And the salt rivers flowed
away from their blue-green beginnings
slowly, ever so slowly, hesitating,
and
gradually, glistening, gainingwithconfidence
carved a crooked channel and
dripped
dripped
dripped
onto a stark concrete mouth.
And the howling wind whipped
a straggly cat o’ ninetails
her sandy hair. Slashing and lashing
about the stone face.
Tight set her jaw, gnashing and gnashing.
Her voice an eruption
crackled, sizzling, smoldering
until SUDDENLY
the pressure, quaking, BLASTING, Booming
(bursting the bonds of sensibility and prudence)
exploded forth.laced with desperation,
“But don’t you understand that I love you?!”
“To understand that you love me,
I must first understand love.
That is the nature of things,” said he.
And calmly, quickly, quietly closed the door.
Thud.
by Paul Luikart