Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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“Holy smoke this is no joke” song line
Heavy Metal, pouring rain, no money
need to get some soon, my leg painful
at day’s end, sore thumb, tender gums
I hurt on all sides, constant tidal showers
gone mean, caught inside, breakers not
letting up, down again, then up for air
only morning will bring relief.  Alone
listening to waves of drenching torrents
cresting, crashing, subsiding, wet rats
in street drains, soggy shivering, a dog
waits, for one to run to dry shelter, another
pelting drumming zinc, rising roar drowning
out the lull, then exhausted to dribbles
drips and drabs as dark clouds drift south
leaving a steady drizzle.
c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    July 31, 2010
    Costa Rica