Jacaranda Rain

The day yawns, I look out, hand on my window pane
Violet petals fall, their beauty can’t be feigned
It’s that time of year for jacaranda rain
There’s a lonely white car near the bicycle lane
And all over this car are violent violet stains
Ah yes, it does that, that jacaranda rain
A man looks at it with disdain, he’s going insane
It’s all on the hood, tires, and woodgrain
He should’ve known about that jacaranda rain
His sunroof is open, purple explodes like propane
Can’t wait to hear the owner bitch and complain
Wet blooms on the interior, thanks jacaranda rain
I don’t like him anyway, I say fuck that mayne
I’d pay money to ruin his day again and again
He stands with arms akimbo like the street’s his terrain
His face turns red, veiny forehead shows strain
At the end of my rope — of my existence, he is the bane
I try to stay cool, but my inner monologue gets profane
I rally my neighbors and start a smear campaign
He thwarts our efforts through some type of legerdemain
I dream of him before a train, being split apart in twain
My mind’s telling me yes, but my body shall restrain
We regrouped to brainstorm, the upper hand we will regain
We got his keychain, the details of how I won’t explain
In his car, we planted some cocaine we obtained
He got arrested the next day, today he’ll be arraigned
We celebrate with champagne and red wine from Spain
Only memories of victory now when I see jacaranda rain