Faith and Hope

Lefty loosey, righty tighty I reminded her,
under my breath, as she struggled with
the battery panel to a toy house built for model people
that looked liked Prozac-laden versions

of ourselves, perma- grinning, plastic and
maniacally unaffected by the struggle that
ensued at the hands of their master, their animator,
who remained a few paces ahead of her developing

fine motor skills. The screwdriver shook
and slid from the star-shaped groove
of what should have been second nature, until
the emotional hose of her countenance,

kinked and sharply twisted, violently
burst forth a stream of blood to her cheeks,
the tool thrown against the wall, chipping the paint
that needed retouching anyway.

Inhaled through the nose, in one
frustrated stream, exhaled again, with
catharsis, she returned to the task at hand:
to illuminate an imaginary world

in electric light, where doorbells
chime a pleasant welcome and all is arranged,

just so.