(2001 plus 2026 rewrite) (c)
Things do
not break—
anymore,
in my house—
this space that
is all mine.
There is
nothing to fix.
The pottery
isn’t flung –
across the
room.
There are no
shattered vases
in the
garbage can—
no shards on
the floor.
Glue is
useless here.
The
repairman’s number
is no longer on speed-dial.
Things are
solid.
Seams do not
unravel.
Sleeves hang
properly—
my arms are
not twisted.
Things do
not bend or split.
I do not
know what to do with my time.
