electricity

you go through
a flurry
of mechanical
break downs.
the washer
not washing,
the dryer
not hot,
the air conditioning
unit, whirring to
an ominous clunk
of a stop.
the smell of
burning peels,
in the disposal,
that too, silent
like a well.
even the lights
flicker,
for some unknown
reason
as you hit the switch
and turn
it off.
on cat's feet you walk
the house, avoiding
electricity.
candle in hand
like ben
franklin
in his long robe
thinking about
kites
and lightning.