October 3, 1986
You can’t trust the rain in Passaic these days
To keep the neighbors quiet and the street in peace
Oh, there used to be a time when a little haze
Sent people back into cover afraid the least
Bit of water would melt them like Oz’s witch
But over time they learned the trick to staying
Dry – which brings me to my particular bitch
That rain and pain and old dogs baying
Are not the sounds I near in this town
When Passaic
is deluged and skies pour
And once when the rain came gushing down
I could lay back for a few hours or more
To the quiet fingers of nature’s ways
Beating at my noise-racked brain –
No more
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