The Man's Umbrella Breaks

The Man’s Umbrella Breaks

Not quite a sludge
but more of a demi-Venice hell,
the pavement wrecks the shoes

and leaves the toes blubbing.
The trees in their melodrama
weep at the tragedy

and do the best they can.
Then, as though something
elemental is taking place, an idea

surges up the umbrella’s spine:
we cannot do this anymore;
I want to be a crow.