Brittle wire break and lights out.
Flashes of colbalt and crimson and clench.
“Where are my goddamn papers?”
An ear lit red-orange and calavera eyes.
Empty holes.
“Ah, he’s just doing his job.”
Paper the color of Pepto that later reads: DIRT INTERIOR.
Not dirt. Clutter.
Maybe some dirt.
“Press hard. You’re making four copies.”
My life laid out in the dust:
two cardboard boxes of student teacups
A Single Shard
yellow bag
car seat
travel mug
small plate
toast crumbs
two dog leashes
pride