After the yelling the yelling

The squall squealed itself out of wind
winding up wet paper bagging no groceries

A formal feeling runs along the curb
squelching misplaced feet

Casual feet the toes place the end
of the end at the beginning of the body

Bottom's up and up until the tip
of the top of the fore

Head in the door where the house
the house hold on for warm life

Without the natural
the natural gas

It's an artificial house
housing artifice as comfortably

As authentic
as shouts dismay