Hyping The Hurricane

I was alive when they were hyping the hurricane

while in the shadows of small riverbank towns
the floods really did come.

the shadows thickened in the mud flats
the tree frogs sang.
then we were a million miles from home

home floating off as if it were a barge
so far from Homer and all his songs.
they were all out

hyping the hurricane. so long, they said to us
while we just prayed.

in a parallel universe
they remained
on a flickering tv screen.

seeming to me at least a bit insincere.

drowned crickets sang
their angel ghosts
the Heavenly Host

the ghosts of summers drowned.
what does truth matter anyhow
when they lie about the weather

some places got no rain at all.

they think we are too Southland
small and stupid to notice
when rain gets hyped

and small towns too.

and who is who
and catfish fried
where someone died

and water burials
lily pad dreams.
and schemes of those out

hyping the hurricane.

those of us
who really miss our homes.
who care about the details.

of an elegiac sadness
getting the story right.
staying up all night because its

us you know
with no place left to go
no games to play

with an ear out for rushing water.
oh sons and daughters of the being not seeming.
look to your redeeming.

the folklore of the free
who can still see things with their own eyes.
and know the wisemen really did come at Christmas.

no matter what the papers say.

mary angela douglas 17 september 2018