Hold up in the atmosphere whispering away clouds—
these are extremes that push back the rain. These are
the litmus test that decides the political fortunes of
of agro-business. Someone is micro-managing the rain.
There have been conspiracy theories to debunk.
Who has the time? So many theories; I’m still working
the JFK thing over in my head; the grassy knoll,
book depository. The rumor Jack Ruby didn’t care
for movies and never looked good in a tie.
Hanging on to things is a problem. Right now
I haven’t room to hold some of the new suppositions
In my thought long enough to even weigh in
on merits or demerits, facts or fancy.
The sky has slipped out of her jeans and into flannels.
Big fluffy stuff, change is coming under suspicion.
Nothing is ever just as simple as coincidence.
AUTHOR BIO: Michael A. Wells makes his home in Missouri with his wife and pets. His poetry has appeared in numerous print and online venues including The Rockhurst Annual Fine Arts review, Boston Literary Magazine, Rose and Thorne Journal, Punchnel’s, Right Hand Pointing and GlassFire Magazine. Michael is an avid San Francisco Giants fan; he likes his wine white and his coffee black. Presently working on a manuscript and you can learn more about him at michaelawells.com.