The Filament

The light bulb
falls. It doesn’t turn.
There is no shift in its trajectory.
It simply falls straight down
against the tile
, and as the glass meets ceramic
(before the bulb shatters)
it cracks. Like lightning,
the split snakes its way
across the domed globe and rends it
piece from piece from piece
and the filament ricochets
and rolls

under the couch
or the furnace
or the stove
or the constitution
but we’re all too afraid
to look there.

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