Thor, the Norse God of Thunder, had a hammer named Mjölnir. Mjölnir was considered a fierce weapon that could level mountains and summon lightning with every blow. In this poetry blog, every Thursday, (Thor’s Day), Mjölnir will forge only song - sing of the mysteries and beauties of the world.

Thursday, March 30, 2017


a thing so small,
almost invisible
with teeth,
that gnaws away
at the core
of something.

This eating away issue
is subtle, it is slow, 
and goes entirely unnoticed 
until, let’s say,
a cabinet shelf gives way
or a door hinge—no longer able
to hold its screws—comes loose.
These are the tell-tale signs
that something is amiss.

So you call an inspector
to come take a look,
to take an inventory of sorts,
to get to the root of the matter.

The news is not good.
The whole foundation
is rotten. Termites.

Fucking bottom-feeders,
detritivores, you think to yourself,
destroyed the integrity of
your whole damn house.

Now what…?

You will need to do more than
curse out the little buggers,
blame the termites
and their tiny little teeth
for the damage done.

Much more.

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