An un-plucked vase with a parched throat
stared down like a Tyrannosaurus whose
itty bitty arms could not reach a flagellant
that wandered the steps of the cathedral
and so, like a pimple, the vase burst forth
dust and particles spewed as it tipped
to the floor, much like the flooded streets of
Wyoming, Michigan, where stranded cars
floated like bits of ceramic on the stone floor.
