don’t forget the rain

a pole tent, an architecture
and the cathedrals in Rome also
shelter against the rain

I feel dripping wet out here
grinding out the texts that
are supposed to be poems

instead of breathing actual poems
before any text can get
its dirty little hands on them

from the bleached bones of all
these dreary textual remains
the sweet wetness, what little there was

long ago evaporated
and you must meet me halfway
if this is going to work at all

and don’t forget the rain