Hi there. Sorry, I haven't been getting much new stuff out there...this one is from the archives. Life has been challenging, but I'll be back in the groove soon. Sometimes, you have to just...well...survive I guess. But it's frustrating; I'd love to have all of my time to create. Someday! My plan is to fine tune Book Three and release it, so look for some more news on that soon. Sweet. Hope you are well, and I hope you like the poem. Love, C.A.
Wet Hooky
Go ahead. Come
down
softly.
Go ahead. Change your mind
and spit.
I have no say
in the way the sky
leaks.
Soak me heavy.
Send bullet-hail. Weigh
my brown hair down.
Darken all the light things –
everything alive, below,
exposed.
Whatever the season,
I'll still open
my mouth, letting my lower lip
hang loose, like an old horse.
I'll still let you touch
my tongue.
I'll still wait for you
to slide over me, over everything,
turning the world
clean or nasty.
I see your wet, wide work.
I see you water
this and that ground.
Some drops dance
for a penny-living.
Some drops
wear tap shoes -
sporadic, uncertain, polluted,
pausing for thunder,
no more than damp,
distant fingertips
pressing down dirty rooftops,
making gutter music.
Some hammer it home,
making surface skin sweat,
and the people hours become
all about the weather.
Go ahead. Come down
softly. Go ahead, change
your mind.
You are employed by the sky
I've found, and up there,
that’s where I’ll look for you --
in each, full moment
when the clouds spread.
You pour,
I sip.
We play hooky
in the lightning.
C.A. MacConnell
