Another Mediocre Poem from a Fiction Writer, Entitled:

Proof That I Analyze Everything, or
Being Crushed Ain’t That Bad, or
I Land in Random Places

“People get crushed like biscuit crumbs.”
-- Thom Yorke, “Black Swan”

In England – Great Britain – the UK – what-have-you –
they call cookies “biscuits.”

And so, if people get crushed like biscuit – cookie – crumbs,
that’s not so devastating an analogy.

See,
the smaller the crumb,
and the larger the object that’s doing the crushing,
the less destructive the impact.

And we’re all peons.

Picture this:
A grain of sugar -- crushed -- by an elephant’s foot.

The grain of sugar will be the same shape and size
pre- and post-
impact.
It won’t be pulverized.
It’ll still be a decahedron.

When I get crushed,
I shoot out
from under the elephant’s foot
like a BB.
Land in random places –
On the sunny windowsill,
In the folds of my grandmother’s quilt,
Or exposed,
between the tiles
of the bathroom floor –

‘Til I’m crushed again.