Chaos Theory

by VA Smith Watch me bathe myself in the coolblues, grays, and sages of the livingroom I have filled with mutedleathers, nubby, Klee-esque rugs,Carrara marble poured over manteland counter. When his stainless-steel bowl fliesinto the refrigerator, bounces coleslaw across the floor, confettiscabinets with cabbage, my eyesclose to Yo Yo Ma bowing Bach’sCello Sonata in G Minor Prelude,open