In the crazy guest who saws off the chair legs,
In the wind hissing beneath the door sweep,
A tribe of mice squeezing through pocket doors,
In the pants pockets where the evidence remains,
Those filaments of wool in the moth-eaten rug,
In the masquerade of motion that sets off the alarm,
The alarm that arrives via airwaves at dinnertime,
In the worm that opens e-mail, eats the address book,
The virus propagating on the unsuspecting screen,
In the cell that missed a loop of timing and purpose,
The unpaid tax surfacing like a submarine,
In the bloody stool and saliva, the mucus and membrane,
Slits of sunlight discoloring blue curtains,
In the broken gutter where ice dams pry up the roof,
A crack in the skylight where mold sifts down,
In the contractor hammering windmills on shingles,
The carpenter bees burrowing barracks into the attic,
TODAY IN SLATE
Smash and Grab
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