Kill-joys

Ayesha Owasis

Man in rain stood 

his sense of self,

aborted around the picket fence 

his striped pajamas and there’s  

rain and man and neighbor’s wife              

squeaking with joy   

god maddening nuisance. 

so he mutters 

BLANK

rain beats behind his ear lobes, 

water creeps into his ear-gutters, 

gutted he shrugs, somebody’s wife

somebody’s daughter somebody’s sister

mother, mother-in-law, grandmother and 

he shrugs and shrugs and shrugs 

and the women

rat him out. A lot of 

“horrid man”s and “fucking idiot”s and “oh I see why he 

can’t take a wife again” as  

the drop of water creep in further and further

plows crawl with its hundred tiny feet, centipedes 

its claws into his ear drums 

and rings and rings and rings 

clumsy hands over a broken flute

his daughter—

squeaks and holds his hand.

asks the rain to smile for her father

and so it does 

and so he does too

as her feet beat 

over running water

sprinting,  

quietly.