Weather ManCast iron clouds cascadeDown like an air raidThe sky is grey like TV staticI raise two fingers like rabbit earsAnd try to receive your signalI can feel my fillings picking up AM radioThe weather carries an uncharacteristic sense of urgency.The weatherman is screaming.His voice is hoarse, his breathing shallow.There is a storm coming.That lysergic acid rain may fallAnd rend my flesh awayHot and humid as a feverAnd the hallucination with itIt is raining sideways now,The weatherman doesn't tell the windWhich way it's gonna blowDistance exaggerated by the damp air,I am an island today.I kiss the emptiness whe
Sta.sh
