when i speak to myself:

rain, rain,
come and stay;
please nourish my soul for forever and a day.
please
flood the valleys and mount the peaks
engulf salt water, fresh water, all bitter tears.
flood the nations that engage in hate--
if it's my nation i'll consent to my own request.

under the ocean we might find peace;
under the pressure of millions of water
we might be humbled.
because under the heavens we're fat with pride
and know no better diet than making sure of others' skinniness.

the few guilty of
too much acceptance and
too much love.
but only hatred is guilt-ridden.
hatred and clamor and deceit.

your discretion isn't working
because time won't stand still long enough to justify your hasty decisions;
because your discretion is infamous indiscretion--
Mama didn't teach you to say those things to people
whose lives aren't yours;
who neither will befriend you;
lives who cannot acknowledge your input
because you don't acknowledge their situation.

oh, rain, rain,
come and stay
rain upon those who deserve it,
and if i am one then i'll consent to my own request.