like meat 

it rains too fast for the ground.
water coming down in birds-- wings sprawled out--
a spattering on side walk & road. cars begin to drown--
their headlights like eyes peeled open. i walked home
from the grocery store with the water 
up to my waist & then my neck & then i'm
underwater. everything 
holding it's breath. i held my breath for a whole hour
& took a huge gulp of air when i got home
my plastic bags full of water & zucchini & mushrooms 
& peaches bobbing up & down. i've been practicing
how long i can survive underwater. i tell my skin
to grow gills but it refuses. underwater 
a shark passes me weeping to try & make salt water.
i live on an island which never sounds like
something that can be real. what's keeping
the soil afloat? we have to adapt if we're
going to survive the next few decades. 
i promise you there's going to be water. 
the ground asks if it can make another lake.
i live by the side of a lake & the ducks 
paddle by with their webbed feet & their 
green heads. i should have feathers by now.
i should have some kind of survival.
i buy water wings & the rain is dropping
pigs from the clouds. the rain is coming down
like hunks of meat-- is snapping umbrellas--
is snapping the sidewalk. what is left
underneath the side walk? 
not the ocean but something deeper.
a kind of flat nowhere. a plane 
in all directions. do i live in a world
with people or water? i am a kind of 
rain drop drowning in the alley to my house.
i live on the second floor which means
we have some time. i open a window
to get some fresh air & i see people
on rafts. i see the lamp posts
peering out from thick water like
hippopotamus eyes. there are animals here
& by animals i mean there are people
like me under the water. this is where
a mermaid would come in. i take out
my underwater camera & dip it into 
the murk. all the shot come out green
& grey & blurry. i shouldn't have 
begged the rain to stop. i have to go
i should be practicing holding my breathe.
if i love someone underwater is that 
the same as on land? will our words be 
eaten in the pressure? how little 
i know about a life with this kind 
of plummet. tree learning to swim.
their fruit floating beside them.
i pluck a green-red apple from 
the water. this is how we eat now.
the sun comes out & the rain continues.
warm rain like a spigot. hot. steam.
soothing. fogging all the windows.
where are you then? are you coming 
or are you water now too?