The family in
the one-bedroom
flat has neither
internet
nor Dish TV.
Their little children
will one day
be running things.
The contralto
in another
breeches role
yields to
the tiny limbed
soprano born
the heroine
of running things.
My Chevy needs
another jump.
Battery
or solenoid
or something else—
one failing cog
in the world
of running things.
Panty hose,
children’s noses,
world wide web,
melting butter,
dirty rivers,
guilty thieves,
the clock the king
of running things.
Photo credit: hpgruesen: CCO Public Domain: pixabay.com