Only One Beat Behind
the floods came, started early and washed the land. unexpected for another 500 years. floods like no one had ever seen. the skies were hot. beyond red and purple, we drove through the white. bright bolts guiding our way, thunder only one beat behind.
nothing like the blind drive, though. on the mountain highway, coming off the slick red cliffs, Tracy Chapman tunes and not feeling the road. line driving at night, hypnotic snow show in the light beams ahead. tight tight neck, muscles clenched down the back. eyes useless looking forward, just line driving.
the flood stalled and kept flooding. heavy water going. these are lowlands to begin with. down from the delta, where the ocean has found its way in, where swamps are always wet, where it's muddy. a corvette spin, a rocking truckload, and double tow setup. a few of the hazards. escaped to the north, through Alexandria and on to Texas. these roads must be lifted, put the houses on stilts.