I could only think in clichés today. Sometimes it’s like that. And they are so sticky! The more I tried to overturn them, the more they stuck to me like burrs. In the end I decided to go into the cliche of thunder being menacing but harmless, it’s his twin lightning that is never far behind him that does all the damage but thunder is full of noise and bluster. Once I accepted that I couldn’t get the cliché out of the poem and worked into it I had some fun with rhyme and keeping the lines rolling like the rumble of thunder until the sudden crack which inevitably follows.
Thunder, in your brontide drawl
I hear the same dump
hunger that killed my sister thud
thud in you blunder
all flashmob and glare
dropping that old number
about sucker runners
following you five counts
ten counts behind always
playing you pushing til
you holler and crawl how
you’re only here to warn me
you don’t want to hurt me
if I let you back in my life
how we could start over, begin
living — CRACK!
another kind of happiness 