The wrath of the Florida’s spoils
Takes form as hammer drops of cloud’s disposal
Begging an angry rant from dripping atmospheric palms
Bound and broken fractured sobs
Beating out, on our oak splintered panes
We wait and watch our drenching skies
Plummeting painfully any remaining patience
So cruel, so brutal the wind twists, picks up
An unrelenting cyclone of dust and clever broken glass
Pummeling the daylight’s once graffiti bridges
And every hole and gutted alleyway
Gambles against the prospects of a flood
Only yards outside of the blood red radar
As the crosshairs of the vengeful gods
Focus meticulously on the eastern coast
To spitefully rid all filthy human
Of a place they call the sunshine state.

07/13/2009

Posted on 07/14/2009
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