Dominique Larntz * October 23, 2012

Inadequate Hinges

 

Doors keep falling away;
keep breaking.

The back screen door slid right off
the track—night before company came.

The front door keeps opening
as the wind signals a change in weather.

I left the back door open all day,

let the sunlight slither in like a snake
I’ll find under the table and need to battle
or avoid later by hoping it belly-slides back out.

I Let the wind carry in flying gnats
that Chuck will likely notice.

Made a mess because I didn’t fix that
broken, leaning door I have been using
like a divine barrier between me

and the dust
and the bugs
and the soil.

This is what gods do—turn
once proud barriers
into nothing but caves.