The knotty beams of the sky crack, and let the rain in: slowly at first, then the asphalt blackens, the hiss and patter of beaded curtains, drawn gently closed, that separate this one little spot from the rest of the morning. Distant lives that you cannot see are as close to you as …

    They gave a child a world    and he broke it. He threw it in the air,    admired the way the spin    reflected the sunlight,    casting silver coins    on the nearby trees, and he broke it. He rolled it up the hill,    bouncing, scattering pebbles    and feathers of dust,    all the way to the …