School Days

you look forward to the days when the weather man, with his metered-pointer so reminiscent of Catholic school nuns who smack the map as if they were at war with Geography itself, points to your dark corner of the world and lets a smiling dark cloud precipitate on your town.  the days where its warm and sunny, you watch the window and some ecological spirit draws images of couples and friends taking in the warmth, and the window stays clear, and though you seem to be in a position of power looking at the window frame like a movie, your hands never reach through, but always stop and end the game of miming you play in your lonesome boredom.

but the rain, it fogs and streaks the windows, and you can smile at ease because it seems to cry for you, and the heavier the rain the more you know that everyone is stuck inside.  So now you can watch the window-frame like everyone else, like the feeling of warmth and company of the world premiere of a sitcom, the sick pleasure you take in watching the same corporatized adverts as everyone else, and you shout from the rooftops, your voice ugly and crackling, but the rain drowns it out, and the kids are all at home, and for once you're not alone, you're not alone.  Take a walk, and then you'll never walk alone.