3644 Park

Skin your knuckle, new boy

The drill presses like rod into dust

Wear a shirt made of shallow breath

Curse the wrench, admonish a smudge

Note the angle

where the wall meets the wall

in profane reflex

Study it in earnest

like you could change it with a word

Toe a tack in the carpet

like a mother mops a stain with spit

Change the locks

undo your own work

Manage a smile when it makes sense

and wake to the noise

of a squirrel chewing fascia