Things Too Small to Be Seen
Radioactive dust landing on the surface of an eye decades after a meltdown.Something pooling there.The feeling one gets passing by a beggar who rattles his cup.Reaching inside, emptied of change.Not even one kind word.A woman weighing her pockets down withLodged in our lungs, viral particles T-cells fail to recognize.Ticks clinging to an opossum’s belly fur.Fifty teeth inside its snout.North America’s only native marsupial wandering through your yard.Interplanetary gossip.The promotion you didn’t get for the third straight year.Hot gas “blow by” eroding an O-ring.Skin punctured by the tooth of a bat while an entire family slept.Bull’s-eye rash spreading on the scalp of a prom queen crowned with roses and Lyme’s.Marred by a comma splice, a letter of application someone turned down.My father on his deathbed.The times I tried to write him but didn’t know what to say.
