New poem!

I Cannot Work Well With My Hands

Graph paper glass
Animates the doors
Between two rooms.

If a pane (fifteen on one door, fifteen on the second, five rows of three)
Shatters I’ll research
How one repairs apertures
And visit the contaminated hardware store
And the unwelcoming clerks
Always suspicious
Of my motives.

Does one press the vitreous square
Into warm adhesive?

Does the glass stay?

I want to know when
I’m finished.

I like my hands when they are
Calm as cedar.