(Huntington Long Island: Friday, Oct 26, 2012 AD)
                             The voice of the Lord shatters the cedars, Yea, the Lord
                             breaks in pieces the cedars of Lebanon. The voice of the
                             Lord twists the oaks A PSALM OF DAVID #29

On Monday he will arrive by night
Huracan, Carribean god of storms,
that most virile and feared of ancient Taino divinities.
Trembling, we await his dreaded company.
No caress and seduce his means of penetration --
simply break and enter.
Thus it will be: with his lethal embrace, he will thrust himself into
our gridded, rectangular, packaged, plasticized suburban places,
rip down alleys,
place his horny hands in the most intimate places,
sodomize the land til it screams,
rape lives and homes in a frenzy of androgynous rage and desire,
smash our neatly compartmentalized days, digitalized time, micro-managed spaces.
Then we, arrogant dwellers of the 21st century
with the pieces of our once sensibly ordered lives
brutally strewn about in primordial chaos,
will find ourselves drowning in ancient wonder,

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