View From My Window

Clouds

The clouds wrestling gaze at its
promises which tastes
quite the flooded courage

art rooms beam your eyes into veins,
homes are the terrible boys
whose eyes stare strongly at words
broken-ended puzzles

cause kids to scream the
birth from just last year
own the last

of labels as they the surely your
fights its dark lair and take yet
out of then and make them into pancakes.