Sauce

The clever new church sign on Main Street
reads, All's well that ends in Heaven
On this nearby wind-chiming porch

you can hear its Sunday bells
ringing too slowly for gravity to allow

All's well also has a beginning

marked with sounds natural and uncanned
of audible friction-created cries
and words tossed back and forth quickly
like apples falling from Newton's very own tree

All's well has a middle

between bedroom walls adorned
with purchased sayings hanging or stuck
Words about love and goodnights and kissing,

a room with familiar tables

the plastic whoosh of a fan

and a bed sprawling

All's well has a pull to the south,

while everyone knows heaven is north

and who can argue, with the bells ringing

and the sign preaching

but this Sunday all's well

will end like every other here

somewhere earthy and muddled

cored, skinned, and pummeled