I went into a kitchen store and I
smashed every plate I could find and she
murmurs in the morning when she pours her
coffee—pour over the cup before the
cat purrs on the back of the couch, I want
to see a car crash or a fight in the
street. Eucharist of thuds interspersed in the
crawling, mauling, trawling of his looped
shoelaces dragging on the pavement and
there is a uniform to life, it comes
as a mawing hum, a blackbird spyplane
overhead the droning uniform of
catholic school children, if it happens
it will again, I want to see a car crash