after the rains. sam sits under a drippy tree in his plastic cocoon. after the rains refresh the parched lawns. we swim and for the time of swimming the melancholy drifts like sea-wrack forming gyres in the currents maybe floating to union city. then i read rex the secret-eyrie of the surly-valence state racket exxcon tillerson wins the oil industry award. i think melancholy is a softer, more sustainable despair.