Inside you is a bulldozer.
One by one shacks are brought down,
huffing like rabid dogs eating black dirt and bones
For years you have been convinced life is a locked cage,
love must be suffered.
you were invented in a glaring hospital room
when a blurry nurse gave sterile blankets a sharp slap.
Out you came, gasping, hale, making a fist.
And off you ran, through the twisted spokes of a bicycle wheel,
atop broken canning jars, between crumpled cars,
kicking at burning oil cans and two bad marriages.
The destruction complete.--Mitchell Hegman