Harold Weathervein
Harold walks down any street of this town

both crier & witness the sun drops clouds shift

his legs twitch



the clocks chime on cafes, pharmacies, and dime stores, in bar rooms he stils all alone erupting.

inhisbeaditsliketheweatherback&forthitsliketheweather

when it rains it pours down



Weatherman, do you feel?

Is it stormy inside of your veins?