Why is it that you can be so close
to having things
the way you want them,
and then you knock over
a ceramic artifact
and it shatters,
or you cut your hand
with a rough fingernail,
or you get intangled
with the mess-ups
of banks and insurance
companies? Or all three?
Where does the
happiness go when
she is so deftly
replaced with one
screw-up after another?
