my little raincloud and i

my anger is my best friend

but s/he's been gone lately, hence tears

my little daughter storm of storms this morning screamed

mom you don't know how I feel

of course i told her the truth: 

feelings don't matter much at all

while the tinnitus alarm rang false! false!

and Christ's tomb beckoned, gaping open

maybe all along my little raincloud and i

only want/ed attention

maybe i can spoon feed her nourishment

steer us by elbow around the sin

our trouble is the death in the way

of that birth, a hard and bitter agony

the white cloths, the emptiness

and nothing nothing? to fill it up