I spent some time in the Clouds today: turns out
we're not that different.
I realized
my mind is
inhabited by Cirrus and Cumulonimbus.
As a result,
this week's forecast is brought to you by
The Hypothalamus.

I rain in tears,
spring showers and
summer storms in
Unintelligible mutterings
                         sputterings, spit and
Outbursts  of  stutterings.
It's pea soup when I'm P-d off.
Ominously overcast until I'm over it.
Thoughts condense inside;
my skull sweats
until my thoughts are no longer as dense
until it all makes sense.

My head's in the Clouds or
the clouds are in my head.
Thoughts drift off like imagination vapors
on a Sunday afternoon.
I'm captured by these Attention span capers
like the sun captivates the moon.

I'm waiting on clear skies;
my brain's barometoer breaks
       under AtmosFearic pressure.
But the greatest beauty is glimpsed
as the sun's set reflects upon cumuliform
                       - Breathless -
Each gleam an unreplicable clash  
of time, light, and wonder
That a cloudy disposition
     would only discover.