those weather alert sounds on the radio freak me out

I drove us home from work that night
and asked if you still live in the brick house that someone drew the Earth on in chalk
yeah your roommates when you were drunk
I hiccuped words at you in spasms;
it's after the light, right
and do you think Fern always uses the green mug on purpose
and don't you think that those trash bags we use feel like panty hose
and doesn't jon look like a turtle without his glasses
I went under the flooded bridge that the other car was backing away from
asking if the water was coming through the doors
but you just kept saying, Susan, Susan, slow down
no one ever says my name so when I find it I lick the back and stick it to my cheek
to send myself in sets of forty fours
somewhere that people push the cuticles back on their I don't knows
and scratch open ums like scabs