Voice Over: Val Cole

God of Water, by Patricia Adelizzi

Somewhere west of Tucson
A paint-peeling trailer park,
Lies snugged next to Interstate 10,
Its structures resting flush
On a flatiron un-green earth.

The tawny surface parched,
Curdled with tires, motorbikes,
And assorted indeterminate items
Encircling the environs of each
Lie rutted roads and driveways.

Towering above the encampment,
Akin to a cathedral spire
A gleamingly pristine, and freshly
Coated, white water tower,
So glossy it glistened and shimmered

Like it was indelibly wet.
And on its shiny face,
Announcing an allegiance
In bold blue and red letters:
Trump

Craving cachet with fancy
Italicized script, like make-believe old,
Heralding a promise of life,
As if the brand was the owner, what
Only the skies can bestow.