Soaking Wet Suite, for Human and Any Available Instrument
Wherever you hide from the rain becomes the rain’s instrument
the roof over your head tin or tar the glass and metal casing of cars
and every room in the house has its own sound of soaking wet
Earlier today the instrument was me at first the sound of a dry being
surprised by downpour and seconds later was already the sound
of saturated work clothes and splat of drops on hair as wet
as it could get: I love these sounds but I’ve had enough
Tomorrow I’m going out to listen for the sound of things drying
Translations from the English 
You make the mundane extraordinary. Thanks, as always.
Very nice!
Thanks Emily!
Jeff, you make the inelegant elegant: “Tomorrow I’m going out to listen for the sound of things drying.” This seems like a noble goal!
And of course it brings the poem to a close while opening the world. Very, very nice.
Thank you, sir! Much appreciated. Somewhere down the line I may tweak the language of this before the last couplet, but I wanted to capture the idea as it was occurring.
As I think of it, Robert, when it comes time to write the seminal essay on Schwaner poetics in early 21st century poetry, I think I will tag you with that peculiar and imaginary burden.
Jeff, I would take on that honor only under the guidance of your friend Mei Yao-ch’en, who has yet to visit me (though I believe I’ve had the pleasure of glimpsing several rats that his Five White Cat consigned to the eternal currents).