Monday, November 5, 2007

house not home

all doors closed
all thoughts unlocked
we sit and breathe in
the living room, sticky
with spills and poison
sickly lights and sounds
of sirens spill
into our rabbit hole
we let ourselves get trapped
in here, despite
all doors no locks
we say we don't believe in fences
so who's to blame
when the puppy keeps, cat-like,
squeezing himself through
the balcony's white picket posts?
we lay ourselves down like dogs
and kick until we fall asleep
can i take you home with me?
on second thought
perhaps not
it seems i've lost the way
and our back door
(left open before)
it seems to have gone astray
there's ghosts inside the walls
cockroaches in the compost
a layer of ash over everything
we tell ourselves we'll one day sing
instead we oil rusty heads
and drink until we cannot think
again and fall down dead
again and somehow stumble to a bed


cadet katherine said...

whoo that house needs 1,000 poems. this one is haunting.

Steven317 said...

I really like how you're using "again" here at the end, enjambing then putting it at the front of the poem. It's haunting in itself.