Well, here we are:
stuck in the ambivalent winds
of our landlocked state.

Warm mornings
without warning
curse us with cold
before the clock tower strikes four times.

The landlocked people dressed for warmth
then scurried for shelter as the chill
seeped into their bones.
Fearing cold they hide their brains
safe from love, safe from pain.
It's like they don't even know
to just wait five minutes.
It'll all be different in five minutes.

In five minutes there will be time
Time for
floods and droughts
ice and flash fires
infinite wrath, infinite despair.

Trust in Oklahoma means
to stand on a faulty bridge
and fain stability.

Looking West in Oklahoma means absolutely nothing
There is flat in all directions.

And so, here we are:
landlocked lovers
amid a complacent population.

Let us not trust weather,
it can not make up its mind.
Let us not trust the wilted Mistletoe
the only flowers I need are in your eyes.
Let us not fear the cold or the heat
in five minutes there will still be time
to blanket ourselves in warmth
or strip ourselves bare
in the devious Sun.