Hurricanes Don't Worry: Poems from Men in the Harris County Jail

A Selfless Act, Mostly

Justin J. Skeen

As I heard the raindrops
splat against the garage door
I rushed to the backyard
to see if it was flooded.
With one swoop I continue outside
saw my cold wet white pit bull
brought her inside
Wiped her muddy feet and
assured her it’s not going to rain forever
I look at the time 11:10 AM
grabbed the TV remote
sitting next to hot coffee
steamed my brain completely contemplated
while watching ABC 13 News
talk about flooding. Cold harsh
winds blowing through my neighborhood.
Like a light going off my mind raced
so I grabbed the keys to my 2010 Chevy 350.
Mud tires gripped the pavement.
And a roar screamed out
from the start of the fuel burning
an engine cranking.
I yelled for my dog
as I was pulling out of the driveway.
Headed to check the area for flood damage.
What do I see?
Drains flooded, intense wind, mailboxes blown over.
I started driving through flooded areas
collecting families from their houses
and driving to shelters.
I picked up and delivered five families,
and then I proceed
to an empty Wal-Mart parking lot
where I treated myself
to a few rounds of doughnuts
—doing 360s
the tires danced around the parking lot.