History of Rain

History of Rain
by Mark Sargent

“wind was meatier then”

Was meteor sin and deceit

just a whispering betrayal done as satisfaction gasp

she breezed through relationships—a breath off the sea

snapping pennants and awnings, the way a north wind

moves through an old house lifting rugs, adjusting curtains,

rotating dust and memory, dead insects, bits of paper smudged

with faux shopping lists, advice, incantation set sail across the

ocean of tile and throw rug attracting the notice of an ole Tom on

a chair, one eye opened, one ear sonically turned to the scratch and

scritch of last week’s news, there were no survivors nor evidence of

foul play, just a banal accident which could have been predicted with

entrails of most any mammal though something like leopard would

probably reveal a broader spectrum of prognostication, an enriching

of the prophecy pallet, what did this creature have for lunch?

That kinda wind.

6 thoughts on “History of Rain

  1. This poem scares me with its emotional distance on something bestial in humanity, which can only be likened to forces more elusive and powerful than either: the wind, and at the beginning a meteor. I can’t find the reference to “wind was meatier then,” but the word play that follows spells out the context as “sin and deceit” given a “meteor”-like strength, speed, and evanescence. This is developed as “just a whispering betrayal done as satisfaction;” “she breathed through relationships–a breath off the sea snapping pennants and awnings.” Casual, self-satisfying, destructive. Then much attention is given to the force in the way “a north wind moves through an old house,” as though it were someone just doing regular cleaning, but which takes on the sense of vast destruction, perceived only by “ole Tom,” who could be a cat or a person, but which leaves “no survivors or evidence of foul play, just a banal accident.” Yet knowing the predatory nature of the animal, it “could have been predicted,” by inquiring “what did this creature have for lunch?” Again, making light of, trivializing, the destructive power of “that kinda wind.” We don’t know exactly what happened, but someone was figuratively disgested, destroyed, with no thought at all but for the consumer’s momentary indulgence. Terribly adroit performance here.

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