The piano teacher came rushed
from burying a father of two crushed
to sand in the Asian tsunami. The dog,
bored with a day inside, sneaks socks
and crouches beneath the pool table, woodpecker-
tailed on the thick legs. My daughter,
dry from a day of vomiting, sneaks sips.
The dog skids in with a torn ball, yodels
until I throw it. A child
is torn in two like a cancelled check. My
head is full of machetes. The dog
brings her ball. I
throw it.

NaPoWriMo 2005, April 15