Wrench

I am the head busted open

with the pipe wrench, the one written

about in the police briefs on grey

paper that will yellow soon

and curl at the edges like a new rug,

looking by most standards old

and quite familiar. I am the white

men running from the bar

into the parking lot where two black men

have broken into a jeep.

I am the prepositional pile-up

it takes to describe that scene:

men drag the chains of...

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