Smoldering coal drops on white cloth;

the edges glow, ash along the rim.

The carbon drops, leaves holes

like rot in a spotless plane,

the canvas of a good soul.

Present, like rain,

it splatters up, splashes on you.

Soaks your feet.

The grumbling sky spits.

Grimy newsprint flips in the wind and

swims in the gutters.

Water, exhaust

mix in the smog.

Tires hiss along the roads.

I am drunk

With the rain.