Misshapen drops of fog storms — major rain —


affable and fresh earthworks must

carry the air out in fat, thick layers (thick in spades, hearts racing).
We can see our excess atmosphere conning our right brains,
because we share weather it has importance —

... here’s where I freeze. (Every-


one does.) You now me.

Clouds yellow, experimental at night



— flakes wash themselves now in dissemblance like kittens in lust.