Thursday, July 21, 2016


Again this morning, the same exasperating
thought came creeping

in to invade the illusory
sanctuary of my privacy,

came skulking
in on its tiptoes to wake me up early

like a small child, irritatingly
terrified of the thunder—

how come? the
rain is only 

the rain when it's 

ever after,
we just call 

it all

For the last time, there's no such thing,
I mumbled rolling over,

as knowing things. There's only
knowing names of

the differences
between them.