Last Saturday

for Paula

Getting a haircut
I heard her say
in broadest Hon-tongue

When I got here dis mornin
it lookt like lightnin
struck a shithouse

the rest of the morning
fell deaf to me
as I walkt home

in swirling snow thinking
maybe about a drink
but mostly the honest hinge

of her phrase and how
big a door I could hang
on it to shut out

the obvious pain
behind that magnificent image
of a smoking crater

caked in crap
some boss is
always leaving behind