storm
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Wikipedia Poem, No. 347
to quarter the weather hence quarter the hull of the ship a nautical order keeps weather a distant blip apart aloof a gage of windy thrusts keeps the quartered slip quartered further against the gage of rain from gagging grip
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“The sky is a very bad parent”
The sky is a very bad parent impatient, grinding its teeth, hyperventilating as its baby wahs and wails and flails and vomits all over its parent’s prettiest things and the parent grabs its little darling a little too tight a taut smile a slight tear traps it under an arm and marches into the kitchen…
wikipoem.org 