William Cordeiro Inclemency

These latter days I’d rather hide my face
with eavesdroppers and scopophiliacs
who’ve taken shelter in this musty place.

Boy, just lookee at that rain and hail.
Woo-wee, sugar! Scatter, brain matter,
and the weather’s gray from ear to ear:

a great big blinding flash! Now I count-
down to thunder but it never comes,
which means the lightning’s right smack

dab inside my head—amid the bluff
analysis, loyalty to failures, sawdust,
logic’s cannibals, and balled-up scraps

of cash. It’s raw and cloudy like the out-
line of a candled egg, this facsimile that’s
been over-copied into smutch. Exactly so,

I’m getting hammered; the chips are down.
Shadows drink their bodies up then slip
away. Everyone out there is saying cheese.

And me, me or the demiurge, being half
the source of all I sense, am still not sold
each detail’s burnt into a verge with fact.

Will Cordeiro has work published or forthcoming in Best New Poets 2016, Copper Nickel, Crab Orchard Review, DIAGRAM, Fourteen Hills, inter|rupture, Nashville Review, [PANK], and elsewhere. He lives in Flagstaff, where he teaches in the Honors College at Northern Arizona University.