Weather Season

Weather pornography is on again, summer is starting

The Celsius ramp is stripping naked and wagging his dong

All over the Northern Hemisphere from now until late September

Football season demands its own audience

Streakers have to bundle up come kickoff

May 20, 2013: anger somewhere suburb got leveled

I am mad at God for the tornado in Moore, Oklahoma today,

Just like I was mad at him for the hurricane in Gulfport, Mississippi in August 2005

Like I was mad at him for guiding the logic of the army core of engineers to build and maintain a substandard levee in New Orleans to allow it to break three days later

Selective wrath to teach us lessons sure is working on me, great job dude

Faith restored, maybe if you send enough my knees will bend back in the pew

Like returning a suit to a tailor after it has been altered.

Natural disasters seem to be an opportune time for fellows to pull out their God clubs

And start whacking around, same I figure for the atheists, at least Home Depot’s stock is up

No lambs blood when you need it

Prayers come in like letters to Santa; I have faith in the postal service

They’ll know how to process the relief

Ricky Gervais tweeted an answer to #PrayersForOklahoma to pledge money to the RedCross

Which as colors go….

The thankful are stacking up memories out of timbers

Some lady found her dog and fresh viral form of pet video porn was birthed right in the middle of weather slash disaster porn and the housewives of America had a triple orgasm

How can the husbands compete?

Twister-twister, hurricane, wild-fire, Nor’easter super-storm, ice-flow

Australian flood, Texas drought, bee disappearances and empty Nigerian fishing nets

Wolf Blitzer says “You’ve gotta thank the Lord right?”

We stare at tossed lumps of shingles, doorframes, and Honda Civics as if the engine blocks

Are just another traffic accident to rubber-neck; humans are fascinated by our mortality

Images that remind us how quickly it could be gone magnetize our attention

Giddy and obsessive over, “At least it was not me” in our heads or

If it was us, but we somehow dredge through death to FEMA to reconstruction

To remarriage, to reemployment to redistributing every expectation that was a constant before

We are reborn in a manner, like judgment day came and went

And all we received was this perverse do over or a damming times-up

So we all stare the way we scratch off lottery tickets expecting the third one to never match

And when it does we end up with aching hearts, because what most fear above all is change

So in we obsess over Doplar radar’s and satellite images of precipitation, barometric Neilson’s

We peer in for a sign that more is possible than this mundane feel-nothing

The dopamine is depleted and the day-to-day just doesn’t do it for you

Like that hurricane-cocaine to see the town you lived in proclaimed to be a place to be forgotten

Not worth the time or effort of the collective to lend a hand and let the wetlands sink

Into the ocean and New Orleanians could be like Jews and find our Israel in Nevada

And show Las Vegas how to party the whole while knowing what death is

So we stare and stare inward churning like the Coriolis Effect  

To unleash ourselves into the winds knowing there is only so much we can do

Hoping someone is in control somewhere, that this confluence of energy

Sucking velocity through the interstate underpass is led by a righteous reorganization

And we see elementary schools full of bloody bodies, kindergarteners mangled like Newtown

Wood beams flung through soaked wedding photos, flames eating nursing homes

Trying to make sense; the fearful magnetize to radar images like ears to pulpits

Imprinting the logic of religion unto science transposing cause and effect

Ingrained in the idea that the two are one as if in an inescapable black hole