Something about the sound of rain dissolves
and allows me to feel dissolved for a while,
preferably curled up at home with a book or a pen.
Itís the sound and the feel and the smell but especially the sound,
that thrum of the universe tickling my brain
through no act of its own beyond the sheer pulse of molecules.
I could cry Water! again, I could cry Water!,
and I do, for being alive is rarely so amplified,
rarely so shone, the details seen and felt so closely
as if magnified in a single shimmering drop
wherein that thrum, that freshening thrum resides.
Itís as if Iím unbuilt and rebuilt in the course of an hour,
standing under a streetlight in whatís left of the Western Hemisphere,
dissolving in a rainforest or on a rooftop in Chicago,
curled up in my melting apartment while time drifts away,
thrumming everything in my heart that is outside of me.
Richard Loranger is a writer, performer, musician, visual artist, and all-around squeaky wheel, currently residing in Oakland, CA. He is the founder of Poetea, a monthly literary conversation group. His books include Sudden Windows (flash prose), Poems for Teeth, The Orange Book, and nine chapbooks of various genres, and he has work in over 100 journals and anthologies. He curates the reading series Babar in Exile and the queer talk and reading series #we. You can find more about his work and scandals at www.richardloranger.com.