Above and below.

Beneath every cloud

lies the speckled oratory of

                             land and water. 

And beyond some cloud lies

the freckled cities of

                        worn out men.

Boredom teaches salvation, does it not?

And activity

kills the ozone layer,

it does, it does. 

Above that cloud lies the warm

sun

And there is a man 

Under that hidden sun

                     who is on the run

from

the Universe of working men.

The man is a maniac of love, 

                                they say,

                                        three times over, 

                                                         
 if not more.  

So the clouds disappear

   and the rain smells of clove,

but don't you wonder if he ever 

                                    found love?