Three exits were tried.
Four more neglected.
The corners of the room
were duly inspected
for dust, discord, and the like.
Outside, the meme strike
affixing a plastic scream
to the storm tormented land.
We ran our hands along the walls
hoping to discern a pressure point,
and were disappointed, naturally,
when nothing turned up.
How typical. And all the while,
the nauseated clouds kept
retching in their beds.