I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for this hurricane.
I’ve stockpiled my canned foods and prepared board games.
I’ll walk through the house in my rain-proof hat
and explain the barometer levels to my stupid gray cat.
As the streets flood up, I’ll say hi to the sharks
who’ve snuck in through Grand street and swim on St. Marks
When dry land’s a legend and New York is folklore
I’ll laugh to myself, because I have a waterproof door.
In my barricaded room, I’ll start a new life
with my Internet friends
and comfy pillow wife.
We’ll look out the window and scoff at the sea, which is actually rising
pretty quickly apparently.
I’ve watched WaterWorld, eighty times on repeat. I haven’t grown
gills, but I can work on webbed feet.
As the king of this land, my life is divine - and unlike Costner, I have an excellent hair line.
And this is mother nature in its most badass form
that would beat the living shit out of a tropical storm.
When the air becomes gusty and the skies become gray, I can ball up my hands, look
up and say:
“You can beat up a twister
you can curb-stomp some snow
but Frankenstorm Sandy is really going to blow.”
And I will reign as the rain starts to reign over my days, I’m a champion swimmer and my
strokes will amaze.
Not even the strokes that seize up the brain, but the strokes that you swim when you want to sustain.
My hand may be cupped, allowing perfect stride, I boast about my skills - it’s a source of pride.
I’ll swim to the top of this god damn storm front and find who’s the boss? It’s an all-out hunt.
If I could meet Sandy in human form,
I’d drop on one knee and say: “you’re the perfect storm.”
We’d make watery babies, little humanized drizzle:
Jack, Tom, and Ace, who we’d call A-Fizzle.
Just me and my family; a working weather system - they’d soak my clothes every time I would kiss them.
And so would end our hurricane nights and since they dissipate quickly, we would never ever fight. A storybook tail would come to the end, as the skies start to clear and the trees cease to bend.
I’ll never forget Sandy’s path of destruction, and her incredibly gangster ways of seduction.
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