FORM

Just when you start

to get things in hand

                                                                                    under control, you know,

tied or battened down

like you might a hatch

on a seafaring vessel

if you didn't feel obligated

to enter it and see

what's underneath

the hood, your feet, the electrics

of your heart—

just when you have collected

the remainders of the mirror

and the lamp

and whatever you found inside the wreck

when you dove down toward it

(everything was broken

(everything is broken

but you bring it back up anyway)

but you brought it back up anyway

in later conversations

about the subject)—

just when you think you have it all together,

surprise, you do!

—you can hold it for a moment

as it poses

poised against the precipice