t’s a devil’s rain and I stand outside in the back alley enjoying the devil’s rain, with the sun shining low beneath the cloudfront and everything illuminated while also it showers on the new growth—the yarrows and lavender, the new and red growth on the ficus tree—and, in the moment, in the moment, I feel like repeating everything as if in a mantra; that I actually slept last night wrapped in my grandma’s quilt wherein she confessed to making one mistake, that one of the flower patches of the quilt is upside down, and I slept well knowing that I told her: “GG, Persian rugmakers would always leave one loop undone because perfection is only supposed to belong to God.” And she comes to me in my dreams, just like Delaney, and she tells me again she has cancer, and I say, “I know, GG”; but she watches over me from her place in the mausoleum wall, and I clutch her hand like a bouquet.
Jenn tells Cayde that it’s ‘rainbow weather’ and he joins me in being outside and he spins in the rain, filming himself while playing ‘Singing in the Rain’ on his phone, just gloriously being a kid; I sit and watch him from my perch on the porch and think to all my friends, the bodhisatvas who would otherwise have their nirvana were it not for remaining on this earth out of compassion, and I tried calling all my bodhisattva friends last night and was met with answering machines. Not that it matters. Finn crawls into my lap and plays with my face and makes funny expressions and he laughs. I am at last rested having been awake what seems like for days, and I just enjoy the moment of him touching my face and sticking out his tongue and shouting, “Bye, Daddy!” though it’s not yet time to go, not yet time to go, and I hold him while Cayde spins like a modernday dervish in the devil’s rain.
I kiss Jenn goodbye while it rains, and as always I tell her she’s the love of my life, and she responds: “You’re the fucking story of mine”; and I feel beautiful and Joycean, all the six derivations of love and the Sermon on the Plain at once; and after they leave I walk down to the corner store and wish Gabe a good morning, where we exchange niceties and exchange currencies, and I look outside and tell him, “It’s beautiful out.” And he says, “The rain is nice.” And as I walk home with my wares and notice the flowers, it is then that I open my coat.