Poem culled from lines scrawled at work; while the top of the building was entangled in clouds.
I Blame You For Assuming I Control Weather
Void varnishes the windows - nimbus
behemoth impregnated, impenetrable
clam womb of the prairie bay.
A family of public worship licks after
salt in the glass. I feel your absence &
wish to outlive you, memorialize you.
Mast happy, tempestuous temptations
render the compass cattywampus.
I guide the needle, imperial homunculus.
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