You Don’t Even Live Once

This is a song about quality
and that great gospel jest
we call knowledge. Say
she drops the bathroom water glass,
cleans blood from her hands
with a towel he slid under
their new designer plunger.
So she just lies there

now, feeling odd and idiotic
in their bathroom, her shadow.
She would leap, he’s well aware,
at the sound of ripping paper.
He will walk into the house,
throw something down.

Graham Foust (© 2005)