the sky smells like chow mein

The sky smells like chow mien
And the streets are evil with oil
So when the rain comes it will be a crap-shoot
To decide who gets it in the rear

The rain teases from about 5 miles out
Obscuring the mountains with the blue-grey of my childhood home
105 degrees down here and the water comes out the cloud
But won’t touch the ground

I can see it but I can’t feel it
I can hear it coming but I can’t tell which direction
I can feel it out there but I can’t say yes anymore
To anything or anyone
Here, take this.

I’m tired of these blocks of print
I want adventures
I want my dreams back, goddamnit,
No one asked you