Not another garden party


The rumble seems more
seems louder
the rumble seems closer
the sound rolling around
inside my ears
and quieting the hammering of the noisy neighbors
as they laugh
drinking beer
and spitting tobacco
over the hedge
towards the pool
that once blue
now brown
seems listless
languid
silent
and still the rumble draws near
as if commading its presence seeking the attention
like missle
straight into the darkness
and punching through
bringing light
where does it end?
where can it end?
and the rumble draws nearer
drowning out the sounds
of forced swallows
tobacco now staining
inside each one
not just the pool
as the rumble
blows past
shaking the trees
the ground
the air.
The rumble never stops.
never.

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