Baja Rain
by Barbara Janusz

crack of thunder unleashed the deluge voided with such ferocity boomeranged from paved over pooled into rivers of latte-coloured torrents; palm tree trunks swayed like matchsticks their crowns shook rock-n-roll style beatle haircuts, bangs in need of a good trim tempo reverberated on corrugated metal roofs clatter reminiscent of Caribbean steel band.

morning after, sweaty, clammy queue at la llantera perforated tire after flattened tire heaved onto apparatus nails, spikes, screws washed into streets extracted with pliers plugged, like bottle of wine corked pump harnessed, air inflated hissing sound antithetically conjures up breath sucked out.

felled mangos litter gardens, bruised skin expels sweet reek of carcasses in shallow, sandy graves sea breeze gust disperses, captures fish smell shrieking gulls, redolent of vultures, bottle pickers scrounge shredded algae hurled onto beaten up beach shore clouds, like ship masts, vaporize over horizon over the edge, as though earth was flat Baja sun rotates into magnetic field dragon spewing fire, undulating steam - incubator for malaria, dengue fever, death.

A lawyer by profession, Barbara Janusz has published poetry, short stories, essays and editorials in various literary journals, magazines and anthologies. She lived as an expatriate in Baja California, Mexico in the 1990's and now resides in the Crowsnest Pass of Alberta's Rocky Mountains.