Harold Weathervein

Harold walks down any street of this town Both crier & witness the sun drops clouds shift His legs twitch The clocks chime on cafes, pharmacies, and dime stores, in bar rooms he stils all alone erupting. Inhisbeaditsliketheweatherback&forthitsliketheweather When it rains it pours down Weatherman, do you feel? Is it stormy inside of your veins?