Thursday, February 28, 2013


I dwell in this house and know I should not
Live here in the dark and dust when I know
It is nothing but unhealthy. I must
Tear down these unholy walls and rip up
The floors. I must spread kerosine and light
The roof with it. Instead, my gray hairs lie
With corpses rotting in my bed, in dust
Decades old -- or, so it seems. My windows
Reflect away the sun, created as they
Are with aluminum foil. The dust
Cannot dance in the sunlight rays if I
Cannot dance within these gray, dusty walls.
The dust dries the air so much that my nose
Should bleed -- if only life ran red through me,
As it should but never really had. Tears
Vanished long ago, leaving me looking
With unblinking eyes at my reflection
In the protective aluminum foil
I do not even have the strength to tear.

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