Deconstruction (for Dee)

She walked up to a house trailing sparks from a hammer. Swung into the deck pillars, little bits of plaster, dust, splinters, came flying at her face.  “My fucking eye” she said.  The roof sags in and more dust cracks off the curved straight beam. She walked up to the kitchen window heavy head in palm and jabbed the handle through 4 panes. The fractured glass sprayed in, bubbles of liquid-sand bending pockets of light. “So fucking beautiful” she said. The door was open, swung out by the odd pitched roof, and those hinges looked old; she whipped the hammer through the way and ripped out hunks. The floral pattern wallpaper spinning, mid air, blasted through a carousel of fine crystal. Porcelain black baby angels flutter, naturally, in all directions. She climbed the crooked staircase being careful of jagged edges, surprised to find the bath. Steel through mirror, zanex, advil, wellbutrin, cortisone, estrogen, respidone, testosterone pulverized to sugar her hands turn white; puts out a tongue, “This is fucking bitter” she said. She ran through the house lead umbrella leading. Bust every fixture sparks fly, dirty water flies, railings mangled. She races one, swing past the deck pillars, little bits of plaster, dust, splinters laying at her feet.