Portless Storm

well sheltered
by brickhouse
the right kind
and wrong
during hurricane
ruminating on
the same ol
woes-with-me song

shouldnt i be grateful
instead of
borderline hateful
thankful my hide
is safe and dry
for at least
one more
day of Try?

how come
I got more in common
with the pounding sleet
the raging wind
than overgrown dependants
sharing sanctum within?

I sigh
half dead
despite branches
whippin my head
levitation
of unused tool shed
tryin to convince myself
Ive been mis-led
wonderin if I
can re-hit the scene
with enough street cred

the water pours down
as if it`ll never run out
and where is this bitch-named storm
in an African drought?
ashamedly i admit
deep, deep down
I lean towards
destruction unbound
suburbia lost
Anarchy Found