Spaghetti models are not really spaghetti But only colored lines across electric maps Squiggling in iridescence around the Gulf Slithering atop the waves, then to your house
The weather reporters’ cliches fall from the skies As microbursts of bottled-water-babbles Canned goods and fresh radio batteries Tune to this station as your roof blows away
Spaghetti models are not really spaghetti But watch the newsie in the street – he’s getting all wet-ty!