The nail was flush with the tread—

The nail was flush with the tread—

I had to crouch to find it,

the way you have to crouch

to find a lot of things

that have already done their work.

I was late. School lets out at three

and it was two fifty-two

and I was kneeling on a street

I didn't know the name of,

hands on rubber,

feeling for the source of a sound

I'd been ignoring for six blocks.

I called my ex.

They said they'd get her.

They didn't say anything about the fact

that they'd get her, again,

because I was on my knees

on a street I didn't know.

That's the thing about a nail.

It doesn't announce. It just holds

what it punctured, patient,

flush with the surface,

and you keep driving on it

until you can't.