Usage

The envelope came with a jagged-cut edge,

I left it to sit on the kitchen-sink ledge.

The math is a ladder I don't want to climb,

it measures the heat and it measures my time.

I watch the stove burner, a circle of blue,

and think of the meter that's clicking it through.

Each flicker is copper, each spark is a debt,

in a house that is drafty and hungry and wet.