Funny How A Crisis Is Born

After what seems like months of nothing—
peace—
it enters the room like the eyeless head of a snail.
Something that has traveled a long way to reach you
and make its little torrential introduction
as we stand terror stricken upon the furniture.

Funny how the crisis moves within the house.
Almost invisible, but with the odor of buried, long
forgotten earth. Insisting to be remembered.
Opens its body and light comes out. Light of a different
fiction. Unfamiliar. Deranged. Where once
there was a wall, a stool, a refrigerator…a person.

Now there is this odd family of muted things, closely resembling
something good but changed in the most unsettling way.