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Typhoon

A typhoon is a mature tropical cyclone that develops between 180° and 100°E in the Northern Hemisphere. This region is referred to as the Northwestern Pacific Basin, and is the most active tropical cyclone basin on Earth, accounting for almost one-third of the world's annual tropical cyclones. For organizational purposes, the northern Pacific Ocean is divided into three regions: the eastern (North America to 140°W), central (140°W to 180°), and western (180° to 100°E). The Regional Specialized Meteorological Center (RSMC) for tropical cyclone forecasts is in Japan, with other tropical cyclone warning centers for the northwest Pacific in Hawaii (the Joint Typhoon Warning Center), the Philippines and Hong Kong. While the RSMC names each system, the main name li… more »

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The only question now is ""How long can it take?""
It's all hanging on you
Just make your move before you have no move to make
There's no future, there's no lighthouse on the lake
You're just rambling through
Endless corridors—a mouse lost in a maze
You gotta calm yourself and try to concentrate
What survives in the fire?
What small fragment after all else disintegrates?
The only question now's ""How long 'til it breaks?""
I come home and the door is hanging open
The smoke alarm is howling, the bathroom mirror is broken
Find you standing in the backyard pouring gas on the bonfire
Ass-naked in the middle of December
The shame you don't recall with the clothes you don't remember in flames
Tearing pages of notebooks—in the embers, your makeshift funeral pyre
I toss and turn all night then it comes to me
It's you that can't shake out the shards in your memory
So you've engaged in this scorched-earth policy
'Til there's nothing, there's nothing
Later on, claiming wolves replaced your family
You raised your hand against me with the newspaper you can't read
Then you wrapped yourself in an op-ed on the construct of history
The mark of time is elaborately long
It's a Spirograph drawn with no breaks—just goes on and on
And here we are on the cutting room floor, slicing fugues
Where they don't belong
I toss and turn all night, but there's no relief
I went into your room, you were sound asleep
So I stayed for awhile watching you grind your teeth
And when you wake, there's a moment as you rise
You feel it all coming back and you realize
You tried to amputate the parts that made you scared to die
Now it'll kill you if you let it
As I watch the light fade from your eyes
As I watch the light fade from your eyes
As I watch the light fade from your eyes
You're a black hole bending light beams backwards
Center caving, self-collapsing inwards
Against the infinite and you have no stature
Shrinking infinitely out of the picture
You pull the lever trying to break the pattern
See the crocus in the dead of Winter

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