Back to the Old House
on paperwork scrawled
old house address printed
pen dropped
inkblot test commence
coughing up
blotchy blurry infancy
first footsteps evaporated
first christmas forgotten
no old lady virginia and her black cat
early days distant lived
storm in singular eyes
triplet bolts congruent
pastel tinted
childhood delusion
or near divine encounter
couldn’t say for sure
I, carved out
in the negative space
not who I am, but who I’m not
not what I want, but what I don’t
‘cause even entropy
has a formula
you know the hounds
are only barking
because the postman’s
come and gone
like you know
a heart that
squalls and spurts
is precisely the kind that works
chase the far gust fleeing
dagger talons far-reaching
irretrievably so
careful never to puncture
regretful rhombus face
wearing love inside out
‘it kills, it kills, it kills’
and it does
each ‘new house’
damned to be the old
