More subterranean excavating: the sorting of saw blades
and hammers and trowels and nails and screws and
Things With Handles and Things With Cords
and razor blades, chemicals, odd building supplies.
Nelson, god-bless-him, in the middle of it all,
taking over the organizing. Delving deeply
into the subconscious of dead-husband/father.
A house unfinished. Parts disassembled.
All will soon be priced, offered to the world.
And I'll be absolved of ashes, wood planks.
From dust we came,
to dust we shall return.
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