huracanes

how the wind whirled
how butter flies weapons

needles to say
they went ahead and cut
weathermen assemble a hurricane
optics in the eye, righty tighty lefty loosey to screw in the arms, legs
a stomach that sits on the surface of the Gulf

the tough have got going
much more than the going is getting any smoother

fingerknives of hands
all objects weapons

a blade of grass touched by halucinogenic dart board players
slices a stop sign
chalk one up for chaos theory

you have changed some
in the light of the shade at a bedroom, coordinate X, Y

in the elongated moment between ground and me, climbing the old Key West
storm shutters
I realize I have never been there, and thus can't go on