Interruption

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INTERRUPTION


Thunder, quartz-flicker, 

and the asphalt loosens 

into mist which itself lifts a bit 


less thickly than it tends to sit

for a peak of how absurd 

it all is—Lookout Mountain,  


sky-water, legs, people

in coats—till just as quickly

sense clicks back into place 


as that little, neurotic tenant 

who’s lived on the upper floor

ever since I moved into the vacancy


downstairs begins to rearrange

the furniture again, bending

to his obsessive labor.


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