White Fang in the Washroom

Sometimes
When I brush my teeth
The toothpaste foam overflows
The basin of my mouth,
Just at the sides,
Dribbling down in frothy tears
Like drops of blood or fangs.
I flash a sinister smile in the mirror;
I am a peppermint, fluoride vampire.

Rain, Rain, Don't Go Away

Dense gray monolith, weightless, cresting on cross currents
Phantom of tiny droplets; neural web of beads, infinitesimal
Millions or billions or millions of billions
Attracted to one another
Like static follicles, magnets, lovers’ lips.
It waits.
Existing on nature’ whims:
Before jerked away on an angry breeze
Or dispersed or evaporated or plummeted –
A change of pressure, wind, atmosphere, temperature
The mutable forces of weather hold the gentle monster’s fate.
The bottom
drops out . . .
layer
after
layer
Sheets upon the earth
One into many
Many into one
A flood forming, fluxing
Dispersed, harmless, and floating forlorn
Churning with the soil, roiling over asphalt, tickling grass, flushing gutters, pelting windows, wetting hair, flowing and growing
The monolith mixes
With life