On the couch flanked by my two dogs, watching tv, my cell phone buzzes emergency tornado disaster warning. Brow-knitted weather-folks circle radar maps, paint-boxes of angry colors splash across screen, pop like pinball machines on ritalin. In midst of language of meteorology, I hear velocity couplet, full stop poetry? Heavy rain, thunder, lightning bolt blows transformer, pyrotechnics illuminate, our house goes dark. I search for flashlight, pen, paper— yes, a tornadic sonnet!