You are given a ball of string, as large as a trifling moon

without tending
it grows red herrings and milieu, it turns out   

cells and hair and a heck switch  
activated by household chemicals

where is it?
you follow its inklings, but end up nowhere

you swear you’ll unravel it
you’ll use the kitchen matches  

if I can’t have it my way at least I’ll have a fuse

look up
see the beautiful scar

leave it alone    go to your room