Escrow

The envelope is a jaundiced yellow,

heavy with the state's demand.

I put it on the radiator

next to a pile of dirty sand.

Behind the toilet, the wood gives way,

a soft, damp surrender to the rot.

I hold the wrench like a heavy bone,

thinking of things I forgot.

The metal is cold and smells of oil.

I don’t know which valve to turn.

I’m just a person in a house

with a whole lot of math to learn.