The Weight of the Dislodged, and: Theory of Disappearance

The Weight of the Dislodged

Removals have become the order of my season.Dust from behind my chisel settles like light whitewool on my lungs. Yet I'm chilled, so many holes

poked clear through to the outside. Breezes blow in.I search for anchoring screws, find them heapedin time's grime. My hands are everywhere prying

in the kitchen insulation, plaster, twists of wire, twineballed up behind, and I get good at bracing myselfagainst the weight of the dislodged, a cupboard

or door unhinged. I'm searching for proper tools—this end wrench is too small, this drill bit splits, a sawblade's blunt. But there's form in luck: occasionally

burls give way, or lug nuts loosen, shapes emergingbeneath the tears. It gets easier to reach insidewhere I can't always see what I'm doing—

behind the porcelain sink say, there are indentations,evidence of the older sink and drain. And my desirefinds beauty sometimes, especially when I can forget

the rest, startle instead at red rust cobwebs suspendedfrom the underside of a shelf. One day I even feellucky when from deep in drywall I jar loose

a wedding band. Someone once loved what I'mtaking, and nothing's wasted, even in shadows lacingacross bare white walls, light through my new screens.

Theory of Disappearance

The blood orange lace of rusting tillers. Drapedover a low wire fence, a snakeskin. Brocade,size 6AA gold pumps. Scorch across a mountain,a fire's sudden fleeing. Bird bones tissued in the clearbox. A bolo tie, braided leather strings. A lockof hair. One bottle of aspirin, expiring. A blank journalunder the bed. Blue buttons. Seven dinner recipesfor eight, folded to fit inside the left back jeans pocket.A length of waxed rope, once knotted. Change.Porthole. Unopened letters, bills, circulars, no one stopsthe papers. Shoes. The cat at a window, the cat ona bed, the cat in a drawer. One drawer open. Starlingsat dawn, empty feeder. Someone asking how? Crayons.Sleepwalker. Six crescent wrenches, the screw drivercharging. Cigars. Frost pressuring freezer seals, the doornever shutting all the way. Eyeglasses. Bookmark.