So last night I was teaching you to hang glide, and we were at a snow-covered valley in the Rockies. But when we got cold, you put on your jacket and turned into a dog.
You didn't want me to know, so you took your jacket back off, handed me a package of crackers, and told me to go home.
I ended up walking to your house and climbing on the sign you have out front. Your mom got mad and shook her fist at me.
Meanwhile, you've turned back into a dog and are living in a trailer home. I follow you back to your place, utilizing my mad hang glider skills, and investigate your refrigerator, which is full of garlic sprouts growing on a bonsai tree and uncooked sausages.
You reappear, we get all of the messy, 'I love you despite the fact that you turn into a stinky dog' stuff out of the way, but then your house catches on fire, so we escape into the blizzard.
We jump off a cliff, but apparently still have our gliders on, and spend several months in the air.
Somewhere we get a newspaper, and discover that our mothers have both been arrested and opened up a fire department.
We land in the city and go see your mother first. She is at home, and gets mad at me again for destroying the back of one of her antique chairs. So we go see my mother at the fire department, and end up chained to the wall with barbed wire around our ankles.
Apparently we've become disruptors of the peace...
[and an edit - this is what it looks like.]
so we're on flood watch right now, where i am, in kensington.
out west from here and north they're already on flood warning.
i was in balmain earlier this evening, for a friend's going away party. when i went to leave, it was pissing down outside. got to the bus stop, was already soaked. had to change buses in the city, and on the second bus, we started listening to the flood warnings on the radio. something, blah blah blah, something, blah ROAD CLOSURES IN KENSINGTON blah blah something.
oh shit.
so we get to anzac and alison roads, and they're rerouting all traffic. they turn our bus back around to they city. so we get off the bus and start to walk home.
only about a 20 minute walk, but this goes above and beyond.
the water is completely covering the road. you can see no pavement.
keep walking.
the water is completely covering the median in the road. no grass, no median.
keep walking.
the water is completely covering the sidewalks on one side of the road, and is about halfway to the sidewalk on the other side, as that side's on a hill. no walkways.
keep walking.
there is a policeman walking down the middle of the road, poking at something with a shovel. the water comes up to ABOVE HIS KNEES.
keep walking.
there are a couple cars in the road, that obviously got caught in the storm and won't restart. their car door is open. the water comes up to THE SEAT OF THE CAR.
keep walking.
arrive home!
look like you've gotten out of the shower with your clothes on, go directly downstairs to tell angie the story.
angie's room has flooded.
the water in her room comes over the carpets. they have evacuated all important things, like computers and books on the bottom shelf, to the spare bedroom upstairs.
and as i've been writing this, power has gone out in the city and the northern suburbs. no electricity, no traffic lights.
rain, rain, go away...
actually, i like rain.
(it makes me want to run around outside and frolic.
possibly naked.)
as long as it is not damaging property and wreaking havoc.
which it is.
but i still enjoy it.
I strip and I'm pretty. And the little useless pieces of paper fall, fall.
I turn round and am startled;
There's someone standing behind me. As I approach, so does she.
Her brow furrows and she grimaces; this isn't the time for company.
Book titles.
Supermarket lists.
She is so silent; I wonder if there exists in her mind the myriad thoughts in mine.
They don't show.
*giggle*
She fits perfectly behind her wall.
I wonder if she'll give in to torpor.
Watch the carpet, love. It can burn.
New songs.
Addresses.
Find the yellow one down there, will you? It has a sticky back.
I knew i'd been dreaming a lot lately.
but they haven't been writing well.
no, maybe that was me.
there's nothing more.
not without you here.
but if i left?
you put on her tail.
her mermaid's tail.
it changed your DNA.
your language.
you kicked me out.
i had to leave my bike.
my mattress.
it was my garage.
you left with her.
you're changing everything.
the daylight burns.
it is apposite.
I am exceedingly soft and warm and cuddly. I have curves in all the right places, and I smell good. The sheets are clean, and the bed is always big enough. The fan is on, the temperature is a nice mid range 25 C. It's not a white christmas, but at least it's raining. Locals disdain rain during the holidays, but I reckon it's the best alternative of all our possibilities. Remember lying in a cabin, back amongst the trees, with the wind blowing through the fly screen, and the rain falling ponderously down on the tin roof?
That's one of the most romantic sounds in the world.
What's wrong with this picture?
