Why are the clouds in tears today?
Strings like hay, pouring with hail’s strength.
I wish I could bend like them. Smile like them.
Carry myself in the glory to fend the twisting wind too.
Why is the earth so heavy?
What did we bury?
What’s so sticky from our past that can’t be washed no more?
Are we really the same as those who came before?
Why is the sky blue? Not white or black? Does nature lack tact?
Was fire confused when he spat out of the earth? A yellow birth?
A raging flow, consuming and making, on his path to us.
I wonder why he stopped. I wonder if he passed you the buck.
Why is the wind so slow to carry the voice across?
Even the wind fears the internet, the speed of speech, the new boss.
So, why is the internet so slow to carry the voice across?
Is the trend train broken? The hashtag saggy? Could the meme be more meaningful? Or will we just wait for the next round?
Tell me, why are my fingers in turmoil? My heart in spades?
When did my words flee from the paradise to this cage?
Have you seen sanity? Tell her to visit. Tell her to return before it’s too late.
Remind her she forgot a sock to cover her nudes.
That necks have become a kind of shoe.
Where is the mountain? The valiant shield, the one who once gave us a chance to flee from fire? Tell him the walls still stand — invisible and deadly.
That the ax keeps falling, now that the noose is lose. Tell him it happens in the day, not under a burning cross.
Why are the clouds in tears today? Why is my head up in the sky?
Will I see George today hugging his mama up high?
Is it the pressure that’s stopping me from breathing?
Or do I have a knee too, right up on my neck skin?