Tonight, it looks like the stars have had a few. Orion   is skinny dipping in puddles, choreographing sweet dance moves   with a streetlamp. Actually,  everything is clearly intoxicated,    from the scent of rain  laced with pine to the grass    tilting beneath our feet.  Let’s face it: as of the most   recent assessment, the day  seems to have had a deficit   of awesome. I mean, even if  the task we’ve been given                                is to make a house  out of a hurricane, to make    walls with the whirlwind,  to board by board create    the floor we walk on, what choice do we have    but to drive lightless all night & honk at all the moths?   It’s far past time to walk  a shattered sidewalk that hasn’t    already memorized my stride, to speak with an eloquence that tends to slur   into grunt & groan, time to  all night long hook elbows with awe.