de Hydration

It may be more satisfying for those that attend high school football games or homecoming parades,
who have mini-vans-or now-called-cross-overs-with stick figure families on the back window and are stocked with three cases of Costco bottled waters at any given time-
they must know, despite the number of passengers,
thirst is the same for all of us.

That middle-aged woman that was on the local news who was arrested for breaking and entering a church and sobbing inconsolably, may have been parched,
her lips were chapped and white last night.
The police on the scene were ill-equipped
to serve her,
or protect her
from the ensuing harsh light of day,
offering no peace but handcuffs.
Do not doubt, she will drink today.

The old meth house near the elementary school that had been boarded up after numerous raids was demolished over two years ago but has become overrun with five-foot and rising weeds.
It was finally fenced off and covered with green construction mesh.
That was weeks ago.
Just yesterday they hauled the heaping mounds of green waste away.
Without the water weight, they could carry more.
The kids walking by learn something new.

Water is no longer free.

At any given time, tears help to alleviate
our own weight in water.

That hydration happens in the hypothalamus, and like all mammals, we are merely
menial doodlebugs donning diving rods, lead and led,
most often leading us to empty wells where water once went and today only traces of humidity remain.

The air is sere here,
even those echoes no longer replenish wonder.
The apocalypse asphyxiates us
while we are set on re-repeating, like sheep bleating out and choking on swollen tongues,
panting and naked as wolves we are.
It is no wonder
we are still thirsty.



Painting image credit By "FREREMORPHEUS" (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.