David Prather

 

 

Clouds Rolling In

 

Tonight, I’m drinking coffee, alone, wishing it were whiskey.
But I know how I get when I expect rain

all night. I’ve looked up the weight of cumulus clouds,
and now I know the average is 1.1 million pounds,
a lesson in levitation. Then,

I wonder why a male calico is so rare, something genetic,
like my eyes, blue, which scientists seem to agree
means a common ancient ancestor.

I have no idea how I developed a taste for coffee, or why
I wanted to take in all that bitterness.
As a child, I loved the aroma, hated the flavor, taking a sip
from a saucer, darkness spilled from my grandmother’s cup.

I went to school with a girl with brown hair and a white forelock,
which was the only interesting thing about her.

And I have a friend who says she can’t taste salt,
which makes me wonder how that affects her every meal, every bite.

Many years ago, I cupped my hands into a stream to sip running water.
I could taste the storms, the earth slipping away.

 

It’s Raining Men
—inspired by Golconda
by René Magritte                   

I caught another one of those earworms today—
a drenching forecast by The Weather Girls.
I’ve been humming through all the lyrics I don’t know
just to get to the chorus, which is an anthem

for men like me.
Heaven help me, I envision them coming down
barely clad, like gods, each encapsulated
in their own plummeting drops of rain,

their shadows on every roof,
every wall, every street. They are men of all races,
all nationalities. American hotties fall with Gaelic studs
fall with Brazilian machismos fall with hunks

from Australia, Nigeria,
Korea, and Croatia. I expect some of them will land
on bare earth, then rise from the mud, Hallelujah.
God bless Mother Nature her wild storms

and gentle rains,
her drizzles and downpours. No need for umbrellas,
though there will be a flood. I love the river risen
above its banks. I love being swept away.

 

David B. Prather is the author of three poetry collections: We Were Birds (Main Street Rag, 2019), Shouting at an Empty House (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2023), and the forthcoming Bending Light with Bare Hands (Fernwood Press). His work has appeared in many publications, including New Ohio Review, Prairie Schooner, Colorado Review, The Comstock Review, Sheila-Na-Gig, etc. Website: www.davidbprather.com