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Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Balance of power

In which we can hardly hear ourselves think and maybe we don't want to



Not as if we weren't warned. Clouds dancing all day like a cat on a hot tin roof. Then of course at night, where everything seems secret but that's an illusion. Storms on radar bleeding out from the west. Siren song of a tornado warning. Duck and and cover. Through the the skylight, lightning flashes to deep applause. Then the curtain falls and the house lights go out -- everything goes out and it's a black and white world, the night and the lightning, the silence and the thunder. All we can do is wait for the denouement but there's no sudden resolution; the drama fades away, the ending loses its power, just like us. We await illumination.

Before, during and


And after the storm, / I run and run as the rains come / And I look up, I look up, / on my knees and out of luck,/I look up.

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