Zero Gravity

Rain

I peer through

the window only

half-believing the rain

thick gray-black gobbets of cloud

they are the ones, officer, you

should arrest for this thunder,

as if

Nikola Tesla and the Titans had renewed an ancient war

already scaling the heights of

Asgard and Olympus

the storm shifting, crackling now at a respectable distance,

the rain doubtless yet more acidic

eating its way, as is its wont, into bronze and marble

huge old monuments of

those great heroes, known,

unknown,

in alliance with the gods, fought

to uphold the faith, fell

like the rain:

heavily; softly; none

little of that mythos with

so little strength to sustain.