You sunk my battleship!

Summer storms hit like letters from home.
The thunder shakes the window panes
and I don't know whether to shit or go blind
whatever that means
and when it did tonight it came into focus.

I thought of her dog, Benji.
The one my parents got me
for my fourth birthday had the same name
until he ran away at the fireworks
and became roadkill somewhere on 9W
but that's another story.
Anyway, this Benji of hers
a little terrier of some kind I believe
really loses it when lightning strikes.
He wakes her up from sound sleep
when the thunder rattles the house
howling and hiding under beds
like my father's dog used to when his old man
came home drunk on Bacardi looking to beat up
on someone, usually my favorite absentee.

My rabbit was on the floor in my room
when that same storm hit tonight.
At first her muscles tensed and she jerked her head
poised for the worst, but after a few pensive moments
of risk analysis she resumed chewing on the socks
thrown on my floor. Yeah, sure; who am I kidding?
She wasn't contemplating the threat of death
she just has the memory of a goldfish
and went back on her merry way when she realized
she was still alive and well and breathing.

Rabbits don't have time for fear.
They're a breed that the fight or flight instinct
has overlooked.
If it all goes to shit and the rug's pulled out from under
they're all royally fucked, but they won't see it coming
ignorance being Swiss and all.

And I'm not scared either
so the animals are fitting.

Dead men may not tell tales
but I'd much rather have a story for Adolf
and the bunch when I finally get there.

Let's do this, long sleeves
be damned.




Currently reading:
"Hank: The Life of Charles Bukowski" by Neeli Cherkovski.