it was 6:30 p.m.
you could taste the scent
of burning leaves coming in
from our back door wide open
I went to shut it –
that 4’x7′ wooden recipient of
my most delicious anger
\ when I saw an antigrav pod flyby low
and I said outloud
are strike drones next?
two hours later
I’m standing in the livingroom
over the broken / not so great to begin with
plastic dollar store lamp we bought
on that rainy sad say nothing to each other Saturday…
\ then pellmell !
Antonia runs up in front – right arm extended
stiletto stabs fast
seven short words straight to my heart
I fall hard on the floor
cry uncontrollably ceiling spins
in walks my slightly older self
\ looks me in the face