LA Weekly is now taking poetry submissions. Interested in having your work posted right here on our arts blog? Send previously unpublished poems along with an image to go with it to poetry@laweekly.com. Check out today's poem after the jump.
After Four Days of Hammering Rain
By Michelle Bitting
In which the troubling thought of sending you away
revisits like a tumor cloud drifting in and out
of an X-ray's gray and swirling firmament,
we go for a drive–a movie to forget
the tears and fists and shattered glass
and as we round the tree-fringed curve of Sunset Boulevard
where fancy houses float like angels
at the gates of stainless pastures,
pearled and out of reach
for almost everyone
on this battered, hell-plagued earth,
it is still raining, Son,
though bright rays plummet through the pour,
water and light,
two beautiful wrestlers
duking it out across our windshield,
which makes us smile, the muscles
of contention easing
so that reaching for your hand,
you don't let go or flinch
as something Technicolor arcs
across the sky ahead
and the road before us straightens,
steers us dead on into a turbulent blue.
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