thinking about the sky
above baton rouge
(the smell of burning plastic
black clouds and cancer flee
ahead of the next hurricane)
while thumbing through
a catalog for vinyl windows
which i will inevitably buy
despite the horrorshow
their production wreaks upon
non-white residents within
factory fallout
the catalog picked
up at a home depot
in alaska describes
the longevity of vinyl
boasts the low maintenance
the low-e argon trapped
beneath the double panes
nothing of mercury, dioxins, and phthalates
or angiosarcoma of the liver
i read the installation
guide and am tripped up
by the weep holes
weep holes in the bottom
sill of the window allow
moisture which infiltrates
the weather barriers to
effectively drain to the outside
plane preventing
rot within
weep holes
a window with appeal
in a land where the sky seldom
ceases crying
a window weeping
for those its manufacture
has sickened
and overwhelmed
(with window installation
furnace installation
the threat of frost forecast
and my family’s sore throats and cough
which i fear may be from exposure
to the new insulation in the crawl space
below our bedroom poorly sealed
to the filth below)
my own weep holes
in my eyes’ bottom sills
open and not so effectively
allow moisture, tension
and desperation to release
ever so slightly
so my eyes clear a bit
and my head too and i
can understand the plans ahead
the vision for completion
which without weep holes
is beyond what i can see
or even imagine
Jonas Lamb 