Preparing for the Storm

A good wind will

rap your body’s cage

with baton hands—

smack it down

hurricane strong

     and your organs tremble

In the night

barefoot in the yard

I watch a good wind

bring down the tree

I climbed in youth

and take every last

      limb bark leaf

into the dark with it—

Wind like a jackknife,

jetfire, coalfire, cannonfire

Wind like my grandmother’s hands,

dry blue rivulets

thinning out in plots

of her skin

Wind like a quake,

like twines of sulphur

you breathe

    at our moon

    at the stoplight

    at your sister

    at everything, everywhere

A politician has

good wind

So does the radio

between chatter static

in traffic

where a good wind

howls horns and all

The radio with the bad news—

     bad news

     bad news

     commercial

     bad news

A good DJ knows

good wind

Jeremiah down the street

knows wind

It took his job

then his house,

most of his dignity

It saved the respect

of his neighbors

for last

My brother found his

wind in a pipe

His lungs filled up

with glass

and dark-eyed gales

hauled him to the pit

He never really came back

My mother,

hers was the strongest—

     a tailwind

          It sent her far away from here.