Early Warning

The sourdough turned to charcoal in the pan.

A gray fog started creeping through the hall.

I waited for the shrieking to begin,

for the siren to finally start its call.

But the plastic shell is empty on the wall.

Just two copper wires hanging like a nerve,

exposed and green, waiting for a spark

that neither of us had the guts to serve.

I stood there in the quiet and the dark,

waving a dish towel at the thickening air,

realizing I’ve been burning for a week

and nobody in this house would even care.