Kat

I wrote this poem in the summer of 2016 about my recollection of Hurricane Katrina (I was there), the famous storm that battered: Florida, Louisiana, Alabama and parts of the West Indies and much of eastern North America. It was the apocalypse of storm and one of the worst the world has ever seen.


There I stood in the Sunshine State
seeing Mother’s work.  Her winds
howled like a weasel cat. Trees rag-dolled
from where they stood as rain sped like

bullets into the Triangle of Death.
Were the gods angry at humanity?
You know our lust to kill as the shrill
of a mosquito’s wings approaches.

Death, famine, pestilence but not war.
Three of the horsemen came to paw
at the presence of Lady Kat because
she’s all powerful with no binding contract.

Much destroyed by many rotating jives, as
little Bush Jr said ” now watch this drive”.
Cars carried – trees deforested – when
would this twisting vortex of terror end?

There I sat in the retina – no, the enigmatic eye
where Mother Earth’s hands sent many to die.
I stood there, idle, looking in awe and in fear
whilst she tossed us the rear of a block of flats.

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