and found a tornado

by blake ellington larson

spurn’d from my hearts welcome’d repose

and her manhattan eyes crept my

spiderweb’d sadness
from it’s rainy days

and stood motionless
and took notes on how and where to grieve
and read didion, wolfe and the daily’s

that i could find a spot worth the shade
that my aching feet
could find respite
in such emptied homes

where animals needed tending (not me)
where money is time and art is not love but process
where the cowgirls are city-girls and the busy is just false noise
where everyone tells you not to look up
where everyone is looking down or through you
where your only hope is in getting lost
where everyone else is bored
where the planes don’t explode anymore

where phones die
where people wait for you to leave to ask you to stay
where survival is passion
where the sun and the moon and the earth are against everything
where you can fall in love with your own broken heart


and if it sings it sings

and when it rains it roars

that new york will wait
but i might not