Water won’t be told,
having all the answers:
spill, overflow, current
sluice, level, torrent
farmsaving phreatic.
Today, it’s bellowing
Inundate! down our track
dust-and-lizard all summer
but from deluging skies
a dangerous drunk.
Offered options
that don’t mention uphill
bottle or dam
water is sometimes persuaded
so here I am, outside-in
as cold rain meets sweat.
I dig and call, cajole
eventually it comes
barking into diversion
scenting the rock-rolling creek.
I squelch to the generator
umbilical cord it to loud life,
peel to skinsmoke in the kitchen,
hit up the shower’s hot needles.
Water won’t be told
but sometimes will sidestep
rather than kick arse.