A thousand hand grenades

Carolina comes to see you. Ready and armed with the lances of a thousand echoing insults. Caterpillars climbed up the ladders of our love. Mechanics dismantled the face of loneliness grinning in the streetlight. Pockets full of warm urine. The love of a thousand hand grenades strapped to our backs. The men who went down to the market. Ducks and geese waiting for us have flown in from all over. Real people know what we’re talking about. Leaving our hang-ups on nails by the doorway. Giggling under the covers. Human hands and faces comforting us. Warm ears in the kitchen. Fire that sits and waits for us to come home. I was worrying about you, he said. You should have called.