Even With Advanced Air Bags – Tom Snarsky

I think we can be worried

that time won’t be enough

of a deterrent. Sitting like

a gargoyle atop the present

& all its terrible fears, I feel

the way a laundromat might 

when the bank finally stops

rolling quarters. I think we

made a more powerful enemy

than we thought when we

started disrespecting death,

acting like it was so familiar.

When the music box opened

& nothing came out, not even

the silent glint of its metal

crank, the idea shot forth

unbidden that we might need

to leave here for a while, to

find someplace safer. It all

hinges on the ability of love

to pick up its million stained

pieces & leave good enough

directions for how to re-

assemble them into some-

thing almost shining, capable

of music when opened into

now by a calm, firm hand.

& though I won’t volunteer

for that job, I cannot wait

to grasp the hand of who-

ever does, to pull it in close

over my heart & ask them if

they feel anything—anything

at all radiating out from that

devastated little cave, lined

with my ribs from which no

good thing / was ever made.