Lift your skinny fingers

Grey, blowing.
Bringing drunken joy.
You stand naked and lift your skinny fingers up
to heaven in praise of God the Father.

Taller than any other.
White steel and round rubber
plastic bumper should be fine cover.

Huntched over with antennaes facing downward,

you coward.

Lightning will always hit the same place twice,
until then your broken sonnet suffice.