The sky screams colors
when it rains.
As the clouds decide they've had enough
and great gaping sheets of rain
shatter through the streets
a glittering gem in this gasoline world,
grey runs down the drain.
Squeezed between nothing
more nothing
and the corner store that's only open on tuesdays,
ringing silence still burrows through
creaking wood floors
and rusty door hinges.
Rain pounds at windows
desperate for shelter from the storm.
Sidewalk cracks fill up with dead worms
dropped lollipop sticks
and rainwater.
All painted a similar shade of beige.
Plans to leave this
backwater town
laid out to dry
under the screaming sky.
