loose door knobs

my hands fall off when i reach
for the parlors of your face.
come, let's sit & say exactly
what we need. i make a grocery list
& buy a shopping cart full 
of light bulbs. do you remember
how much you said you loved me?
lately, every door knob i grab 
comes loose in my hands & drops to the floor
as a dead rat or a dead bird.
sometimes, the creature will
scurry away to die in the dark.
the house doubles over. in the basement
i find the pelvis & disappear inside
one of the mickey-mouse holes.
have you ever seen an x-ray? 
we look like billboards. my life 
doesn't have enough doors & has also
way too many of them. sometimes 
i call a hotline & say, "would you like
to eat dinner with me?" you cannot 
push the world into a box & then
complain the world isn't wide enough.
i peer inside. ants knit the seams 
of my room. i kneel down
to peer through the openings
where there were once door knobs.
brass & plastic & gold & steal.
we called the hand man to fix 
a lock. he lifted a potato 
from his bag & stuffed it where
the knob should be. he said, "is this good?" 
i lied & said, "yes, that is good." 
i do not want to ask for everything. 
why can't a door just arrive?
lost wing. jaw of a snake. 
i'm never swallowed quite enough.