Rain Valentine

Rain on the grave of beauty
rain on the beauty of the grave
and that right quick we looked
where we were heading forelocks
bobbing and the wind obedient
to whim come out in the yard
the real war is still waiting to freak out
when the others leave
they still haven’t the sense
to think past the littoral
come out in the yard
in search of the second
coming of the self
out of the grave of beauty
into the rain in the yard.