HOW MY DOG AND I HAVE LEARNED TO COMBAT THAT BLEAK STRAIN OF DEPRESSION THAT COMES WITH 952 YEARS OF RAIN IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

We have
learned to
sleep a lot – as the
rain strangles woodchips that
flood out my yard as the pit
pat on rooftops becomes hard
Nazi boots as the river bursts
swollen like a pus plugged
fat sore as the mushed ground
gets greedy & consumes half
my shin as the windshield’s
shellacked with a blinding
grey sheet as the wipers
scream screeching, a bloody
goat’s bleat as the worms
float out bloated just waiting
to die as the rage of a
tantrum engulfs the
bland sky as the
clouds leak like
cheap Brooklyn
boilers – we
have learned
to sleep – and
dream of
the sun.

-ryn gargulinski.04.03.06