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