Rover,
is the term “handy” personified.
At a little less than a foot tall,
he was built for pocket use,
but he didn’t much care for those pockets.
His owners were the Brick Tamblins of do-it-yourself,
unable to tell the difference between a flathead and a Phillips,
with a garage full of rusted tools
recently replaced by his $59 QVC special,
Rover was a five letter word for potential.
His future prospects involved toilets
and broken dryer doors.
Bleak had never found such a deserving home
as Rover’s 8”x3” cardboard cut out cubbyhole,
where his dreams of authoring children’s books
developed dry rot
like a forgotten sailboat
weathered by years of repressive rain.
Although his job demands
Lou Ferrigno’s type of strength,
he sometimes finds it hard,
to lift his ill repaired
ambitions above accumulating salt water.
Where choice was never an issue, because
he didn’t choose to command drills,
or punish nails with hammers,
he was told.
But he doesn’t repair what he can,
in fact he breaks things.
He doesn’t fix electricity,
but burns out circuits.
The same circuits that light up the sky,
because yes, even stars break.
Rover,
is not synonymous for handy
although he was built for convenience,
he never found it to be convenient.
