without tools

i don’t know
if i forgot to
hit the lock button
on my key fob
or if someone popped
the door but my
tools were stolen
from the backseat
and i am trying to
not fall to pieces
over the ratcheting
screwdriver my dad
bought me thirty
some years ago
mostly because i
am now inacapable of
putting myself back
together again

a technician without
his tools is as useful
as a coffeeless poet
trying not to let
another setback in a
infinite string of
setbacks break him down
failing at failure
seems to be another
undiagnosed super power
the incredible fool
in unreciprocated sorrow
a punchline to a joke
accidentally told on
all saint’s day long ago

but that goddamned
screwdriver was my last
tangible piece of
the ashes spread nearly
twenty years past
the bearings were fucked
the handle cracked
yet it was perfection
and used every single day
and now it is gonegonegone
and i feel orphaned
for the second time
an unwanted smear with
nothing but needs i have
no way of fulfilling
compressed by anxieties
and left to drown in
unrelenting depression

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