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The poems

© 2010-2013

hurricane

The funny thing about storms
Is that they uncover things
When the water recedes
There are ugly little secrets
Mother Nature does not participate in cover-ups
She is ruthless in her fairness

Watching the Greatest Power in the World
Fall to its knees, broken by the Real Boss
Is messy business
We find we control nothing
Whimpering, we stagger
To clean up the uncleanable mess
As the flood waters pull back
To expose the pallid underbelly
The ugly little secrets
That tourists and grand parties
$450,000 cars and $3,500 dresses
Cannot cover up anymore
It is a terrible awakening
A house of cards collapsing
For those who distance themselves
From miserable lives lived every day
Away from the TV lights, football games
Extravagant parties and fancy restaurants

Katrina brings cargo
Katrina brings sorrow
That was already there
This tidal wave has only flooded their misery
Out into the terrible light

So we go on
Hold news conferences
Rush exhausted emergency workers
And soldiers and law enforcement officers
And people who will struggle
With the broken lives that will be
Without question, left behind again
We go on
And bury the secrets again
Along with the bodies