While you held your breath the longest and fell without
a parachute the farthest, a distant
church bell dragged its broken foot across
our last Sunday
morning together. And all through breakfast,
the Heaviest Man in the World scraped his eggy fork
across a greasy plate, making a sound
like the oldest documented parrot (bald, blind and
demented) stropping his
ragged beak against the bars of an unnecessary cage.