Joe Wells’ most recent poem to appear here was “Stasis” (July 2017). 

Wildfires & Hurricanes
By Joe Wells

The God of Wind
rides tall,
mighty tall,
on a chariot
driven by
a zillion
horses of
fire.

Slashing heads,
Slashing mercilessly
the army in
green
as they plead,
cry, kneel, bow,
fall
in slow-motion
face down,
each one,
thousands together,
all.

Their darkened
battle-worn
bodies toiling
last breaths,
seeping red
hot blood
through gaping
wounds
that continue
to stretch
till they
tear apart
to many parts
before they
lay still,
slowly
going cold,
crumbling to
dust
of ashes.

Smoke-
signals for help
shot high
to heavens
are ignored
by the God
of Rain,
now resting
somewhere,
hungover,
having partied
hard
elsewhere
day & night
for days & nights
together
with the Wind
God,
dancing
dirty,
hand in hand,
neck to neck,
in tango,
twists,
circles,
intoxicated,
on the many beaches,
trenching deep
to uptown funk,
midtown clubs,
downtown hoods,
suburb parks,
everywhere.
Spilling gallons
of undiluted
delirium,
outpouring brims
of oceans
that high rose
to mountains
climbing the walls
of cities.

And, so, many
mortals now
live on with
their dead
pasts,

damned by the gods.