Poetry: It's Raining Here for You

It’s raining here
For you
With your cigarette and black coffee mug in the same hand,
You
Who still keeps a typewriter in the closet
To pay homage to the old ways,
To those grown-up men trying to find their boyhood once again.

Breathe in the droplets,
Or they will smear the carbon copies
Falling from your trees,
Thin leaves for submission to the press.
Doesn’t anybody print unknowns anymore?
You cry,
Doesn’t anybody read?

You dye your
Second-hand clothes with the same tea
You make for me to drink,
So what am I to think
About the fairy tales of utopia you spin me now?

Let go.
Dance for the rain.
It came down for you and shimmered.
The czars and I and even you can all enjoy the ballet;
Your words,
They will wait for you to untie your wet boots.


Jennifer Stohlmann