deluge tender square all the pamphlets say i shouldn’t ask if you remember: summer storms, watching cloud fists unfurl, you drew me back from the metal railing, your hands upon my shoulders as we stood hushed, just us. lightning forked in so many indeterminate directions. possibilities, i thought childishly. now, those flashes come like shocks of pain, confounding origin. my sisters don’t ask after you, dad, or if the aricept is working; too ashamed to visit while you still know their faces, names. they can’t be certain if you’ve forgotten just how often ems responds to their blackout states. was god with us then, lifetimes ago on that porch, with a wrath that shook the windows in their frames? is god with us now, in the aftermath, as the pavement sweats out worms belly-up in shrinking puddles? 210806 ... unhinged apres moi - regina spektor 210807 ... tender square "apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood" lovely. 210807 ... unhinged the part in the middleish where she sings in russian always makes my hairs stand on end like my body is remembering something my brain can't comprehend 210808 what's it to you? who go blather from