Sounded like an army of geese
a turbine filled with feathers and beaks

Wind chimes playing jazz chords in Dubstep rhythm
Rain falling sideways, the Earth tilting

My umbrella became a shield, waved
defensively as if in a ghost’s face

as I thought about how once, a dead guy
said that having sex in the rain was the most alive

he ever felt. The world a snow dome
filled with petals. Gutters foamed

and drains turned rabid as we only just made it
to our intended destination –

an apartment in St Peters. From beanbags
we watched silver sheets of water cymbal-crash

against trees and buildings and telegraph poles,
a biblical wetness anointing asphalt

Cinematic, transcendental
Windows broadcasting the elemental

Rain, the hymn of its own profusion
Clouds surrender to diffusion.