Uncommon mistakes and a way to pass the time at5am

I ate my pill, bitter, more than
bitter, it was not mine. I fear the human beings
that remain exhausted
and screech a some yellow orchid noise. it was never an intention
that
we (anyone and me) would end a sentence of a breath together.
I can only allow the rain and dark set
tree branch and buds to slink presently as
a piece of life. an undetermined
emptiness is remedied by........ an emptiness that is less
approved
as less is known, but for the switch of a porch light to come in
thru the windows, it is cool, the rain has stopped, desisted and
protested a
return to silence. there is never a hope now
it shall always be noise.
I SHALL ALWAYS BE NOISE
there is more than a curious bird call
there is more than a suspended hum,
more than flickering light,
or a tight jaw,
there is a song being sung to hope the
last of sidewalk is not reminded of my
knees; to think that silence and peace
are a welcome conglomerate of words,
to think the trees do not stay black all day;
it is a porch step........ with a telephone and
a cigarette and a soda bottle,
it's sick to think we like that smoke
or that the rain is truly avoidable.
I walked from parked cars, lacking what
was useful, coat or gloves,
umbrella
umbrella,
and I did not insist on avoidance;
I followed the storm petals until they were
cold and then there was no option,
I would walk thru them.
I walked thru and soaked the storm into my clothes,
and to squitch, splish, slips, spip against
linoleum is to create an orchestra as you
move. and to
follow a step of my shoe I wished to
be in a Saturday rain that will not
stop or finish or really start. it quickly is
and is not and no more but a bird squall. a bird song.
a bird cry; the only way that it can pass the time.