Its crum-dug-diggly-fugly weather today.
80 billion gallons fell over our 12 county area in 8 hours said the weekend weather man. The man who is not as handsome as the prime time man. Still somewhat stilted and fishing for a catch phrase that will take him to big weather cities. Miami. New York. Anywhere but here.
Clapboard weather that pitter patters on the un-used exhaust vent in my apartment. Soaked drenched phone book weather. The amount of water that turns these relics into suburban super weapons to be tossed over highway pedestrian bridges. A tiny bit of free mayhem just needing a nudge.
Tomorrow the already dense spindles of tomatoes will surge from their August peak into an Indian summer of green ticking against a clock and root bound to stop them from rending more fruit. The plants my neighbor left on her porch will soon need to be brought in. I anthropomorphize the plants and here is her scheflerra commenting on he difference in mineral from rain water to tap."This really tastes better, Janet. The rain water I mean. On my rhizomes"
Here are torrents that pour through the broken glass of old warehouses. Places you can ge for a deal. Call Lou Sala for a deal on this place where vines cover the area code. Moss grows over the drenched upholstery from the abandoned break room sofas.
Clammy basement weather. Trapped in a bar called the Barking Spider where they only have hot fries to eat and the TV got soaked through a hole in the siding.
