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Donna Ialongo

Summer Storm

it came stamping down the street
one heaving June (so thick my
tongue could slice the air)

complaining all the way,
grumbling, gargling each dropp as
it pelted my shoes with muffled joy,

and a little bit of
god would show as he parted the
sky in a sudden quick

(just to let us know he's still around)

the clouds all
coughed til their summered
juice spilled on cracked asphalt -
which never said thankyou.

with each deep breath of every cloud i

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