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Drought

Thunder teases heartlessly,

making sultry promises

it doesn't keep.

Lightning flicks seductive tongues

against my bedroom wall

and then retreats —

while clouds, grown fat with moisture,

hang heavy with intent.

We wait for rain that doesn't fall —

doesn't

fall.

Naomi B. Patterson (2003)

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INTERVIEWER: What do cut-ups offer the reader that conventional narrative doesn't? BURROUGHS: Any narrative passage or any passage, say, of poetic images s subject to any number of variations, all of which may be interesting and valid in their own...

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