Burglary at the Garden Inn

Neither of us thought that broken windows and swear words
were the same
             or that jigsaw puzzles and shattered glass
could switch pieces.

We didn’t know that police reports and security cameras
were necessary,
              or that shop-vacs and brooms could gather
scattered shards into sparkling confetti.

Neither of us thought that a cardboard strip covered
by a Glad garbage bag
              and crisscrossed with masking tape
could sequester light

or that a downpour could shred plastic, rattle metal, then mutate
into a road trip monsoon.
                 We didn’t think the pale concrete and gold
center line had anything to do with it.

We didn’t know that a man in a hoodie and a woman
in a mini skirt were the culprits,
                their stealth monitored on video
as they rummaged through the glove box, the debris.

Neither of us thought that the corrosive wind and corrugated
cardboard would struggle against each other,
             loosen the blue tape, whip our hair, and tangle
our nerves all the way home.