Barely Made

a chocolate cookie spilled on the floor
crumbling in dissolving hands, barely made

"anemic", the teacher, shaking hands

bending head
would say

soft hands that never worked hard,
never saw the light of an oven, 
the heat of an electric saw. 

A mind absorbed
in the twist of plotted books.

heaven is the library of the soul
why do I not belong here?

heaven's in the pages where people 

remain immortal
where I can be any character, adopt any pose

the tension between use and disuse
a failed apprentice

ditched projects, wired guts
an angry man walking away 

without a single heir.