Tonight we both watched the news, two girls found dead in Illinois, live at ten, anchors pumped selling thunderstorms, gladdened cancer tales of children in wigs, wishes granted by rich angels... You need to see the weatherman, the shape of our lake an erection at its end, our state your right hand, a palm, we live under a thumb, it will rain all week if we believe in Doppler, pointing men in pinstriped suits forcing us to trust.