he couldn’t float any faster
than the speed I have traveled
to escape
he asked me: “where to in such a fury?”
And I said to sir stratus you stupid cloud I’m going nowhere fast.
Sir nimbo flexed his fluff until the blue
bent around him and got caught,
feelings and all.
In empathy with blue, I called sir nimbo
the shape of an ape
or the shape of an aperture always taking taking light;
oh, I know an unrequited love when I see one.
Columbo-lonimbus passed gas
any which way it fit her fancy.
Suppose I fit her fancy when she boom-sang at me.
But I am too preoccupied
with going nowhere quite quickly
to be swayed any which way
she might choose to persuade me.
Now, Sircirrus in all of his creamy spoonful of dream
Understood the overstatement of here or there
and now now now
so he readily obliged when my head reached his height
and I hummed to the beat of birdwings
slowly, making their way toward
the end of the day.
About// my head is often in the clouds because no one can hurt my feelings up here
