In a concrete lot near Sturgeon Creek
under a heavy rain, he closes his eyes
and waits for the dashboard cigarette
lighter to pop. The girl he thinks
he loves has taken his seven dollars
into this strip mall pharmacy 90 miles
north of St. Cloud. She’s left the heat
on high for him, and the voice of God
punching through his eyelids and down
his spine. A woman preaches the weather
on AM: “Rain? Just you wait. The Foot
of the Almighty come down in Green Bay
and send waves mile-high into heaven.
Then you see rain.” He sees it. He’s
sinking, now just half a man, now a small
hand holding a match above rising water.
Todd Smith 