It was a dark and stormy night
And Alvin wasn’t home
The river, the river
The river outside
Is rumbling by
Call Alvin
Alert him
Deny that he was here
But when the knock comes
From the sold, cold
Marigold wood
It’s a floor plank
A smirk
From the basement
That calls
Alvin isn’t here
Alvin wasn’t left
Alvin doesn’t know
Alvin isn’t gone
The rush of the clock
Forgets for the day
And the cuckoo
Chimes out
But suspects
Where is the mischief
That plays on your nerves
Who bought it?
Who buys it?
Why Alvin?
Says who?
A tendril loops down
From the chandelier chair
And begs me to cut it
But I’m preoccupied
With mother’s cookbook
And the flickering
Tickering
Clock
The thunder goes softly
Into farmlands
Beyond
We see from the window
The cause
A little swore at her mother
And so--
The crops will corrode
And the church will ablaze
And we’ll find ourselves
Looking
For someone
To blame
A green, green, green dress
How pretty
How true
Amazing what happens
When spent growth
Slickers rain
Off
Into
Worrisome
Cuts
Cut, like the tendril
Cut, like a snip
Cut, cut, cut, cut
Beggar the fool
And plead
For the guilty
Alvin was searching
Now Alvin
Reminds
Don’t leave the door unlocked
Don’t leave the windows up
Don’t leave the church bells silent
Or you’ll find yourself
Stained
With
What father calls
Noise
Blue is the challenge
Red is the fight
Grey is the certainty
Black is the night
We run to our places
Where hiding
Occurs
And round
Ripe
Eyes
Go out
Nothing peripheral
Nothing forgettable
A sound
A sound
A morbid sound
Too shaken to hold still
Too scared to move
Such a rhyme
Such a riddle
And nothing to say
Alvin was gone
But he’ll be back
Today
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