Fucking shop-vac broke again — I peer inside – the barrel-cactus chest my mother – used to love the mountains rising – in the desert so green – so orange and pink I lift the lid and curl my lip the – gills are clogged I – reach my hand inside a – grey book of dust crumbling at my fingertips so soft like wool – that covered the couch so velvet when – pets were more than pictures in glossy frames I – grasp unseeing inside its heart and pull – out an ashen clump are you – a crematorium log are you – a barrel cactus sunrise are you – a fish gasping in a river are you – a shop-vac refusing – to love because you died – inside fifteen years ago on your birthday in – a library of greys when you were fitted – with faulty gills so thin you were a fish – born with lungs of a bird a fish – born in the seaweed a fish – born not to breathe I – choke on your dust there's – nothing beneath you – rotted away whatever function – you had was imaginary now there's – no shielding for the truth there's – no pretending you're not gone –
fuck you I – slam the lid shut I – stalk away
that moment when shop vac