Weatherman

thunderstorms explode up

rising from the earth

as marching acts of God

lined across the horizon

erasing the sun

dissolving the skyline

with falling water,

flashing lightning and

the freight-train sound

of the tornado screaming

down rural streets

yanking trees out

by the roots

rearranging the front lawn

into the kitchen.

somewhere

above the howl of warning

horns mimicking the

sound of a terrified

child on a amusement

park ride,

that funnel keeps

spinning and touches

each life forever

and while all God's

people scrambled for

safety and pray for

God to spare them.

i'm rubbing my hands

thinking this

is all wonderful,

but what's my backdrop?

is the camera getting me

okay?

before i check my light

and makeup and lead-in

time wondering as

i read the copy if

the hotel has a bar.

5.13.03