yesterday, the string on the yo-yo broke
at the nadir, spinning
ready to rise
and snap
it fell to earth
a drop of infinite inches
compressed miles
concentrated years
covered in a blink of weakness
frayed string
neglected line
like a fish
dangling at the fingertips
wriggling mad
breaking away
into river
into home
an empty frying pan
a hungry family accusing
a man who couldn’t perform
ruined trick
games for children
try as you might
in one overlooked aspect
in one heedless instant
the south will never rise again
lost in ignorance
in descending ruin
in your last dalliance with hope
at your lowest point
the future escapes and swims away
rolls away
a toy
a meal


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