or,
death is her solution
to life

Life isn’t a problem
to be solved
but a conundrum
that can’t

When I was a boy
my brother’s cat
feared so fiercely that
she padlocked her mouth

We didn’t
let death heal her
Drilled a hole
in her throat

through which
we squeezed
calories
as thick as concrete

She
ended her
hunger strike
Welcomed herself to suffer

Now, nonstop
downpour
a torrent for years
yet

somehow
with each lightning strike
everything manages
to catch fire

None are allowed
to drown
no immolation
or self-starvation

or
else the tempest
might end

This is
no Noah no
flood into which one
may escape

My wife
has always hated the rain
but loved
the space between each drop

She points it
out to me
but I see
Nothing

We become drenched
together
while also
apart