Here is a poem salvaged from Descant, a literary journal at Texas Christian University, Fort Worth, Texas. Grateful appreciation is extended to Mr. Dave Kuhne, Editor, who searched the archives at the library and sent me a copy of the poem


Driving through a Street Deluge

You truck through a street
watered down by the rain last night,

gently wake the slow virgin-flow,
steer between half a hydrant

and a row of cars submerged
to the top of their tires.

The center stripes melted in the night,
spread across the sidewalks and lawns,

leveled low-down depths,
took on the behavior of a rear-view mirror.

Through a forgotten, subtle dip
where trucks refuse to float,

the fan blade screws up the water
into the distributor’s fire.

Your feet feel the floorboard change
into a liquid windshield and steering wheel.






Descant
XXIX, Number 1
Fall-Winter 1984-1985