
The report said,
“Mildly deviated septum,
otherwise normal sinuses.”
He remembered age four,
excited, impatient,
Standing 3 steps up
a concrete porch,
Holding a celluloid tube
of tiny candy balls.
He’d seen older kids do this,
even sharing once,
And now his chance
to pry the plug
With wild fingers,
only to spill everywhere —
His haste-driven dive
to reverse the effects
Of gravity on plunging spheres,
found his nose resting
On the sidewalk below,
where he bellowed bad luck.
Soon, clinging
to his mother’s neck,
As she wiped
his blooded face,
He complained only
about broken fortune.
His nose was quickly forgotten
for a lifetime,
Until x-rays penetrated
his memories,
Of sweet loss rolling away,
yet still desired.