It used to be

Swimming in the orchard;
Swimming in the rain;
Swimming in the flood!

It kicks in—so, like a
shot of vodka to the throat
I believe in somebody’s vision
of holy—it wasn’t mine

My eyes have once again proven that
your cloud, blanket and my 50 cents
are raining on your front lawn.

Carry on, until it’s gone.

It always was
after all.