Bleak rolling pin upon Zeus’s countertop,
heaving along as a
heavy metal bro screaming a catgut in
is a wrench,
twisting the light out. Spewing
raindrops the drum
doesn’t stop and the deluge
hauls rivers from their earthly ruts,
having them navigate
the four winds and
Bohemian Stars that won’t
about not having their due time.
And so the morning starts
in a whistle and a roar.