The Malevolence of Everyday Objects

It starts when you ascend the stairs,
drop your keys square on your foot
kick out and send them rattle-clang smack
down the three flights
your arms full of groceries, you lose it

as the bottom of the sack
packed by that lazy pit-faced troglodyte
at the Shop-n-Sav gives way
when the freezer spinach plastic
slick with condensation soaks the corners soggy

lurches from your arms, heavy black bean cans
he stupidly set  atop the bags of frozen stuff
tumble and roll goddamn it and you
went to all the trouble to sort that shit

on the conveyor belt to save time
and every fucking red light in the world
and the AC doesn’t get cold until
you pull up in front of your building and fucking great

the goddamned fucking box of spaghetti
you almost didn’t buy since gluten
goddamn spills out fuck fuck fuck
joins the cans and the keys on a nice trip downstairs
God must fucking hate you fuck fuck fuck

the eggs, of course
are fine. Some kind of lesson, God.
Thanks for that. The flour. on the other hand
drifts in powdered mockery, whiteface
bags of chips, blood, shit, drop your guts like a slit hog right
there in the fucking stairwell

sending you a goddamned message

burn down this joke of a life, it says
one thing and another
all roads lead to Rome

because the Goddamned Romans built the roads

Follow the keys and the cans and goddamn

 

The Daily Post: Ascend

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Don't just stand there.