Oops

I hit the sugar off the table on this one, again.
reaching for the cutlery, but knocked the table
to pieces. terminate the shards into calculated numbers
even the boss couldn't get hit head out of the glass jar.
i missed the exit every single time we spun around
that drunken, dim summer carousel. Itch off a remark
from your lips, from the teeth of devils they pour
across the floor in endless droves. saxophone.
saxophone number two. oh geez