Surviving a Tornado with a Post-Structuralist
"Il n ya pas d hors tornado"
his fingers forming quotation marks
in sync with "tornado,"
his black clad back to the window,
his form refusing to brace itself
against the chaos
of defenestrating wind.
Retreating to the cellar
on what far field his form would fall
and whether he would finally find himself
outside the text.
Heehee...I grant thee The Debate Link Award for Excellence in Poetry (don't laugh, it's pretty impressive considering I despise all poetry).