about disaster. Connections at switches twisted just a bit loose. Squirrels in the attic, sharp teeth and splintered copper. Breakers corroding themselves into spark. Outlets that smell like burning because they are. Now he’s sawing a hole in our sheetrock. Says the air behind walls can whip with current. Arcing from wires, finding something to fill. Oh love, all those nerves surging under the surface. All the ways heat can bring down a house.
Abbie Kiefer
Abbie Kiefer lives in New Hampshire. Her work has appeared in Arts & Letters, The Cincinnati Review, The Common, Passages North, Poet Lore, and other places. She is on the staff of The Adroit Journal.
