the nuisance

she is the clipped
nail, bitten too far
now inflamed, sore.
she's the stubbed toe
in the night
against the steel frame
of the bed.
she's the finger
caught in the car door,
the piece of glass
stepped on
in the bathroom from
a broken jar.
she's the phone
call at night when
you're fast asleep.
the telemarketer at dinner time.
the noise in the attic
with scampering feet.
the shoe full of water
as you step off
a mound of snow
into the street.