Sweeps The Temple
There is no heart in this house
nothing rotting The agent
smiles The floor
though no one is moving
The heat sighs on
though it is june and
has not been touched in years either
This room where all the pages were evacuated from their books and
the faces carved from family albums
would make a great nursery
Smiles and nods
The clock in the hall is running backwards
but it really is just rust that taints the water red
What did he say about no heart in the house?
The fiance asks
What does that even mean?
The agent is too nervous to check
his reflection for sweat
sweeps the temple he's sure he's mopping
You look like the perfect couple to take this house off my shoulders
he smiles God
he has to stop smiling
Curling iron lips
This house is so hot the chills are a welcome respite
What Is This All About?
This page is where the content from previous poetry blogs have been condensed. It's not on the menu, since most of these projects are over, or on hiatus, but the posts are still here to peruse.