She wanted to go home and play in it
with her dogs, her dad. To Jesus of Suburbia.
She jumped in a puddle – it was the ocean.
She went for a swim – caught a cold from the air.
But nothing chai tea, a vinyl, and pizza
can’t fix.
She overslept, treatments took longer
than usual, she couldn’t decide on an outfit.
She’s just late for school, to class,
Four days, two hours.
The rain made her cautious, made her worried.
It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow,
that’s what the weather man promised.
Weather man is a liar, a cheat,
A motherfucker.
It’s cloudy again, rain moving in
on me, waiting
for her, for September to end.
She’s late.