Why the Hate for Rain?

Why the hate for rain?
Quiet accidents in rapid succession dripping on tin roofs
and sploshing in steam columns on the hot blacktop it’s cooling.
White noise cascading down from grey clouds, a soft lullaby for the afternoon.

Water, ever safe, never suffocated anybody at six in the morning.
Why the hate for rain?
It doesn’t collect itself in valleys to flush out the poor.
It didn’t put the poor down there to suffer the wrath it doesn’t possess.

I’ve found comfort in driving through walls of rain, worrying only for my window—
my brain can slow down when I can see only my windshield and grey forever.
Why do so many drivers hate the rain?
I guess 50 miles an hour is too slow.

If there are more accidents on stormy days, none of them have happened to anyone I know.
Why so little hate for the night? The only person I know who died in their car
died in an accident in the dark of night, when the streetlights get shut off.
Why so much hate for rain?

[ 20150429 ]


Austin’s Coffee. Winter Park, FL. Viator poem. Written for the Ultimate Roar, a fun slam Curtis X hosted wherein each poet represented a specific form or mode. In order, I roared “Why the Hate for Rain,” “Sunset,” and “Nerves Warming”—and won! Now to get a chapbook together.

“Why the Hate for Rain?” is the ninth poem I’ve written for NaPoWriMo 2KXV, the goal of which is to write thirty poems in thirty days. Follow the fprg tag NaPoWriMo 2KXV to see what I write this month.