The Emphatic Truth of it All

A Slam Poem.

My mind is racing
my feet are pacing
around the room,
around my heart that's blazing
from anticipation
of precipitation
or perhaps its just
manipulation
of my trust
in the weather man.

It seems I digress,
from a point still unmade
surrounding the
still unspoken idea
revolving around
the still unanswered title
the emphatic truth of it all.

And the emphatic truth of it all is
my friends, that we don't care
where these words go or
where they're from, do we?
We wouldn't care if I were about to
solve all your questions
and quell all your troubles
because I am not giving
the evening traffic report or
explaining Britney's more recent
accidents.

And it is to that effect
I object my digression
and inact the succession
to satisfy your objections
with the following discussion:
The emphatic truth of it all is
there will be a high of 55
with a small chance of rain.