hitting things

he likes to hit things
that are no longer working

the speakers hum instead of
sing.
they're in for a treat.
he beats them.
he throws them onto the ground
they shatter into particles of wire, glass
sound.
they hum as they collapse
as they dismantle, and disassemble

they no longer belong to him
they belong to the ground
broken, free.
they make music.
they sing of destruction
of premature love, of death
And, the unyielding power
of the universe.
the universe
so deep and wide
opens like young love
before all of the ugliness
the half closed doors, the eager good byes.
The parts lay apart like stars on a map
of the sky.
he calculates the difference.
He renames the pieces.
He moves them around. He plays with their shape.
The speakers are broken.