Tinkerer

Poem

Photo by author

I tinker — sometimes
I can fix things that break
One too many gifts from my father
genetics instilled
No choice — but renounce
helpers he had at my age
I remember his displeasure over a broken up hinge

Cracks spread out in the mirror
broken window — staring the past
This when I fix it, it lasts mantra
pumped in my veins — kind of
loses its charm
I remember most fixed broken things — broken again

I sacrificed my daily bender
towards a washing machine — when
I jaws-of-lifed the old one’s door
holding designer jeans hostage
I was damn proud of it, too
saving up — for a change
I guess I’ll be washing clothes instead of sins, then