In 1998, I lived and worked in Burbank for the summer. One September afternoon, my final day in that office, I drove home in the rain. I hadn’t seen wet weather for months, and the next morning, I would begin driving to Oregon to start a new life.
When I got home and watched the news, I saw downed trees from winds, electrical storms knocked out power in Downtown Los Angeles, and the streets were flooding in Orange County. There were funnel clouds on the horizon; a school of sharks were circling in the shallow waters of Marina Del Ray.
It was like Armageddon in the LA Basin; one of the happiest afternoons of my adult life.
Conversely, if the change to Seattle’s weather has you down, here’s Tom Wait’s to commiserate.
Also, I’m trying to learn new forms of syllabic poetry (thanks Mike Jackson). The following form, 10 lines long, one syllable, then two syllables, then three, …, is called “etheree”. I don’t know why it’s called that. Somebody should check my counting.
Tom Waits Sings ‘bout
And wretchful people. Sad
Spirits wryly soar with angst
“Emotional Weather Report”
Beware thunder storms and mental health
Tom reminds us with a long, funny pome
Huh, I feel like maybe I’m sharing too much Tom Waits.