. . . an item none of them wanted to be

                                         when he disappointed opened the cupboard the coffee mugs tried to shrink if they made inadvertent eye contact with him they shifted their eyes if they had heads they would have nodded to the mug beside them

                                   several trembling in fear negotiatedmanaged to point their handles

none  wanted to become the next mug he somehow fucking  misplacedtwo in the last four months  the first a beatup tin 2cup measuring cup he had used for   Wha     Fuck  since last century

the second was utterly replaceable

                                         and maybe because it understood that

when he set it downwhen the neighbours dogs hurtled towards his porch after the four feral cats he fed it dove off the railing into the bushessmashed its handlerolled down the driverolled down the downhill driveway

            Take me away from this madness

threw caution to the wind

Use me

Pot a succulent

See my worth

See my lavender flowersthe plum script wending between their stems my uplifting message  God

Hes an unbeliever

                    Save me

    hysterical

 

even though it was hysterical

                                   it had been serving a function

 

Which mug shall it be he thought

                                  and in that desperatedesperate moment

their salvation occurred

their prayers were answered

                                 an earthquake

the cupboard came off the wall

all the cups and mugs were smashed

                                             if 

    Annihilation is Salvation  

1727,  Tuesday,  23  12. 25