She fell into the day, a pond filled with yesterday's
friends and loose teeth
Struggled to her feet stamping through old money
and a ripped skirt that didn't fit ever
Shrugged on her jeans wondering about her DNA
and her other genes and that bridge
And if the signals in that part of her brain's tower were
firing on all circuits or if that poor organ
Had gone on strike for good and all, or if she was
thinking of some other cells.
