Downgraded to Hurricane

This hurricane, his namesake
stalked him before it tore into
the infrastructure and careful
calculus of lives, the very breathing
of beating hearts. Hearths,
as it were. Homes. His brand
hand picked after agony after
agony, checked against
nicknames and popularity
gauges. His brand
slammed by whisperings
around watercoolers and wraiths
of smoke. They said it,
his name, as they spoke
of it, its terrible
path. There is no mayor
of association, no federation
to detach
the briar of holy terror
from the simple material
of one man's life. "You have been
named again, and this time
by a dark agent, a force,"
a voice said
each time he flipped
station to news to
signature
in a new hand, a hand
with a tiny, the tiniest,
new pulse.