Singing “Some Enchanted Evening”
And pitching the anarchy
That the best version I ever heard
Was by Jay and the Americans
I stand in the doorway
Staring out at the rain.

“Don’t splotch in the puddles,”
I remember my mother saying
Back when yellow slickers were in vogue
And going out on Saturdays
Was de rigueur, even in the storms

I found things swirling
In the water that had no name
And made boats for ants to
Float through stygian passages
Knighting them, despite their otherwise,
As the new Columbuses of the subterranean

I don’t remember the day
I found no joy in making
Life an expedition for insects
But I think the insects
Appreciated my blossoming
Into something resembling
Rational

I found rainy days to be annoying
In the end, just as
The quality of my raincoats
Improved. I wore London Fogs
And cursed the water that dappled them
Even in the spring

Now I stand in the doorway
Singing, you may meet a stranger
And wonder, if it is so,
Will my chances improve
Walking in the rain
Or surrendering all exotic impulses
That still thrum in me and taking the car.

10/06/2009

Posted on 10/06/2009
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch