Wrote this today before the sun rose, been a windy couple of days.
Forced Funnel Cake
By Tyler Mobley
Winds will be winds passing pressure, proprietary imbalance
self organized energy spools dotting gust of telegramming gods.
What is that noise? Blinds scratching glass?
Is it the dying whimpers of a man whose mouth was replaced by a harmonica?
Have the windows escaped, two paines shedding frames
subtle squeaks the result of their French kissing?
Or the obvious answer, a branch outside has mistook our window as a canvas
while under the impression it was Bob Ross.
Silly how the winds blow.
Walk Where You Want 