The Lesson “It’s ‘saw!’,” he thundered, “Saw!” The crackling wood —“Can’t you see?!”—collapsed to orange blocks. My yawning kitten stretched and purred. “You should be …” Wiping snot and tears, “He was the fox,” I said. Once upon a weekday we caught cabbage whites to frame. I wished the book flew up our flue to God. “You’re mean,” I sobbed. The page remained unchanged. “Persist!” Reading Kafka in Jacob’s room under The Starry Night, our cat in frame beside your ash, betrays me back: Despite the thunder, did you know I meant to read, I tried to say, the word…