Broken
House
This
house has been broken by incoherent words.
The
lights have gone out. We can't find our way about.
We
haven't got our faces on. Light a fire on the back porch.
It
burns obediently
all night. Until well into the afternoon.
It's
not a fuse. The lights are broken. Under the roof
the
wiring has been a meal for mice. Or something else.
Curl
up like a baby on the couch and feel the damage.
Where
are all the children with their pretty ways?
Put
an argument in one hand, an argument in the other.
This
is the way the women dance. How beautiful they are.
Do
they own everything? They are laughing as they dance.
Leave
this broken house behind and find another.
Some
rapscallion little miss is looking for a lover.
A
roof over her head, a light left burning for her.
Ah those last two lines just kill me. There is such sadness and ambiguity in all this. A glimmer of hope? Or not... I like the way you do that here.
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