What Did I Buy
Because a rock got bored, dislodged itself from a planet
and landed here.
Which made a molecule launch into flight like a bee, frantic,
slamming into another molecule.
This puddle, this hive rippled with energy and doubled,
tripled, kept replicating.
Flagella and gills. Tails. Water, heat, ice.
Thumbs. The collapse underpinning everything,
the tendency of stuff to break off and shed,
go dropped-marionette,
leave pieces and imprints.
Because every lull is interrupted with dust,
this is why I have bought a broom.
Every purchase is a solution, a small one.
The reasoning is persuasive. Now I'll never look at the broom the same way. Now the broom has become Hannah's broom, symbolic in its utility, for its raison d'être in the hand grasping it, like the towel of the hitchhiker in Douglas Adams' galaxy.
ReplyDelete(grin)
Seriously, Hannah, I like being pleasantly rattled by the deductions in your poems. You never bore me. Your wit and, here in this poem, your sense of humor -- they make fawning a very sincere deal. (grin) Cheers.
hehehe, pleasently rattles can't be beaten. I'm with SL!
ReplyDeletethea.
xx