Poetry: Solar Storm

"Bacchus and Ariadne" -Titian

Ink spots—

You Rorschach the tea

As I Lichtenberg figure

The dips and peaks

Of thought and speech.

The timeline crackles above,

Wires filled with fire,

Water, a maze below.

The radio’s voice cuts in and out,

Like a heartbeat unsure of its course.

“Cataclysm,” say I.

I don’t measure out the

Length of days anymore.

The radio agrees:

Static at the helm,

Beep, beep.

I know not what to say.

The storm of the sun extends,

Sinuous snake, on and off.

We sleep and wake,

Radiation like an X-ray.