Story IV

The story is in the soil.
It has many short chapters.
For instance
a man stands on the top rung of a ladder.
He’s aware that this
isn’t the best idea
but the gutters are clogged.
Whoever designed the ladder didn’t think
about how high two storeys could be.
An accumulation of errors,
not one of them serious
except in their totality.
For instance
a woman is sketching him out
for the back of the newspaper.
He will be sorely missed,
the bastard. Someone might believe that.
For instance
a fire starts and the house is gone.
There was nothing of value in it anyways
except for the son and the daughter.
For instance
he’s eighteen and they just gave him a car.
He doesn’t know how to handle it
like he doesn’t know how to handle anything.
He takes the corners hard,
too hard.
For instance
there’s a raspberry thicket
by the back fence that they’ve
been trying to kill for a generation.
A succession of husbands
have declared war
until they day they moved
or otherwise.
The raspberry thicket still stands,
and spreads like thickets spread.
The story is in the soil
and there’s not much you can do
about that.