Everyone is staring
like some sermon or
light coming through a window.
I see a roadside cardboard box
and think of kittens.
I see a car flipped on its side
mouth agape in agony
crushed teeth
and I think of small disasters.

crayon across a wall
boiling lobster
ceiling mold
spilled tea
paint peeling
smudged glasses

As if this hope
they call God
is just a child playing
with things he shouldn’t.