When things go wrong

It still stings 
When I thumb on it. My car wreck display. 
I despise the slick jacket 
And the black and white photo in frame—

Head and coil, a quick mind 
For the end of days. 
It plagues me, I say: 
Too close to home. 

I press it hard like 
I press against the phone,
Through the white dial and its ring tone, 

But all I hear is
The sort of music that goes on 
In the background, when things go wrong.

Dale Chou
2012-08-26