Making Sense
In theory, you drag into the dappled light
of the driveway all the many tools
you’ve gathered over the years to build
a life, sweep out the inner room,
then with a six-pack for a friend
begin a rational afternoon of
setting right. In theory there are
plenty of built-in hooks
and a label-maker, so all of it
should all but categorize itself
on the proper shelf, and in the future
you’ll know exactly where to go
if you need to fix a leak or where to look
if a tire’s flat. And sure enough,
the big pieces click into place neatly
as fact, and it’s not until the porch
light flicks on that you remember
how things arrived at this state
in the first place, the yard scattered
with odd pieces of pipe, dusty
instruction manuals, a cardboard
box of fittings that doesn’t fit
this category or that, maybe
a baseball bat. Some things
reject a hook, and theories
categorically leave us hanging,
but what's loose most often proves
the stuff you need next week
to hang a ceiling fan
or when shit hits it, and sure,
you might have to do a little
digging, but at least you can swear
in good faith
it’s in here somewhere.
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