Weather Report
The rain fell all day
But up in the clouds
Never touching the ground
Just hovering in the air
And an occasional armpit
More than one but uncountable
Uncountable, like you could
Tax such a thing…
Everyone was tossing
And turning in their beds
While they worked as receptionists
Waiting for that 5 to 7 minutes
To add to the atmosphere
Muggy is what the weathercaster
Would blurt out that evening
And can’t you just see
All the heads nodding
All you can add to the
Mind wandering
Open kitchen windows
Would billow the grease
Smoke, thicker than
Heavy breathing, and
You know what that leads to…
It gets all so indispensable
Waste, as if that butt end
Of your bean and potato burrito
Would be half as bad
As the gas you add
to the weather report