From the tenth and tallest floor of the St. Joseph tower,
through a narrow glass hard-glazed in cement,
looking west to the mountains across the northern edge
of the main Mission Campus
and down into the lots for the tonka cars and trucks,
the spring clouds sweep the distant peaks.
The days are long, the nights are longer;
food is the only fun, except not much.
Discharge, like the rapture, frees.