This Is a Fog Area and They Mean It

Clouds that weigh tons

Clouds that look like cloud sausages

The nation speaks, builds signs, buys gas

And the clouds move on from east to west

They drift north

They get caught in jet streams

Planes crisscross our path at unexpected intervals

They are massive

They restore the principles that made us the greatest nation on Earth

Spending ticks up and interest rates hold steady

We go from town to town in search of music or magic or scenic overlooks

We go from town to town in search of gas and lodging

We go from town to town in search of food while more law enforcemet officials are being shot at and shot

They won't take my blood anymore

That's stupid

Here are my receipts. Here's my taxable income. Make me something special.

Will it smell like strawberries?

Will there be flowers?

Fireworks?

Here comes 2012, doing its best to make everyone proud

Location:West Haven,United States