I feel like I have been here before in another life…
So that was a fun little foray into Missouri, and one which I’d be okay never repeating. I mean it was great, because I got to laze around in a nice a/c’d hotel room and cultivate my inner monster with Jeff, but the whole Missouri part… pass. Sometimes I sort of forget that I’m the idiot for whom Boston wasn’t cold enough, and was about the only person in Wisconsin who reveled in the Martian freeze of last winter.
So I’m fleeing, hissing slightly, back up to the slightly more civilized temperatures. I wish I could just sink into cryostatis until October descends, washing away this heat and faded dying green and spinning in its golds and reds and smells of smoke and cold. Shit, if I could just hibernate from May through September every year I would do it without hesitation.
(Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.)
Sometimes I feel like an asshole because I want to see a tornado, see the sky morph like that. I grew up with a taste of hurricanes, and even the watered-down versions we usually got in Daytona were awesome, in the literal sense, but they just felt like sort of a magnification of a thunderstorm, like the daily summer storms we used to get amped up to ten. I’ve never seen anything tangible like a tornado or a waterspout. Once or twice I have seen the Midwestern air turn orange and electric, and I remember the twist of apprehensive excitement in my stomach, but the tension always broke into the patter of commonplace rain.