Poem #17 for National Poetry Month
A hard, hard day with people and the same night with the boy. Here is April 17, 2013 in all its glory. The other poem is just angry about stupid people and I won’t post that one, but here is the one that happened this evening.

Warning: Sudden Storm Boy Approaching

“Eh, eh, eh! WARNING! Thunder storm approaching!”

I hear it in my head

One of your favorite things to imitate

You say this usually calm but authoritative

In your little boy nasal voice

But in intonations just like the National Weather Service

You rehearse and rehearse

I hear it sometimes fifty times a day

Repeated and repeated

But it means nothing on those days

It is your soothing play

To say this warning in the morning

Sometimes when the day is clear as silk

Yet you milk it for all it is worth

I never know

There is no alarm

When you are about to harm

Not because you want to

You are put under this incredible pressure

That I can’t see or measure

It is always there

In the surrounding air

Weighing you down

There is no sound

Until you explode

From zero to sixty in under a minute

And I can’t fix it

Try as I might

I look, but it’s uncommon sight

To see what it is that caused it

I listen for the signs

I look out to see it brewing

No warning for the prime

The cloud burst is sudden

Flooding the region

A legion of black bugs

Tearing at you

You tear at me

I flee but not far enough

I want to help

I swat at the bugs not you

I doge a well thrown shoe

But am caught by an unseen upper cut

Biting through my own lip

As jaw is slammed shut by your stunt

You look as shocked as I am by it

Yet you rage

Not able to contain the wind and rain

Beating at your brain

A primal scream

The full blown hurricane tips

My hand raises

Energized on automatic defense tactics

Objects, body parts flying by

I can take no more

I must get to shore

I run away

Hoping for a break in the storm

A deep sob robbing me of strength

I sink into the bed far away from you

All is still

In the eye

Where we can see again

I feel your hand on my back

You fall like a sack void of its contents

Sobbing like a steady rain

You meet my eyes

Hold my hand

The storm’s abated

For this I have waited

Empathy is hard won

In my amazing autistic son