slew the beast…


we needed to talk about
broken machines, and the
blades that didn’t spin, the
sinks that wouldn’t drain.

the man sent to doctor
various busted appliances
didn’t waste much time
looking around.
he noted the lapsed
condition of the drain, the
switches that didn’t
inspire any movement,
the lack of a response
to the electric current
and the dirty bleach water
pooling in the sink.

it took some number of gestures,
half-hearted attempts
at levity, and spoken-word
communication before
we settled on
non-verbal signage.

his outstretched flattened palms
told me the unit
was a total loss.
sans vocal articulation,
it was tough to gather
in the facts;

both the sink and its
disposal friend
had served their final
moments. both were now ready
for retirement,
and the junkyard.

in broken spanish,
and something resembling
english phrasing,
it was agreed that
the plumber would return
on wednesday,
ready to perform
disarticulation of the subsystems
making up the plumbing
underneath the sink.
new parts, new connections,
a brand new tube for
things to fall through.

we’ll be back in business
with sharp blades capable
of slicing through
rinds, peels, and the
remains of half eaten leftovers.

In the language
of the kitchen,
we’ll notice the full functionality
before we adjust
to an non-working sink.

the proper production
of miracles turns
with the disposal control
switch. there’s
nothing to argue about;
it’s either on,
or it’s off.


dedicated to everyone that makes things possible without ever asking for more than a fair day’s pay. the world runs on the unseen, always has, always will.

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