T. S. Eliot once famously remarked
That April was the cruelest month;
I think he never lived in Texas.
Pick almost any day in Spring,
Then seek a closet
Or a sturdy toilet
And cower in a corner.
Week after fickle week
Enormous storms form,
Spin into wall clouds, into funnels,
Ravaging the land and living things
Who choose to dwell here.
Yes bub I do realize he wasn’t really
Speaking of the weather
But believe that if he lived here
This gusty afternoon
He’d be butt-down
In a bathtub.
©2023 John I. Blair 3/26/2023