CLOUD HUNTING BY MICHAEL LEE PHILLIPS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 51

Clouds?

The sky we had never made no clouds, bitch.

Moisture trying to float our way ended up in yard sales, 

Dried-out lumps looking like white dog turds.

Woman was all smiles trying to make a dime off us 

Saying, Hell yes, these here, they still got rain in them,

You think I’m lying, go ahe…