the house often passed

left behind,
or home alone
with each foot planted
on the modest ramp
where plastic cars
hummed, crackling down
as droplets of dreamt confession
fell, agreed to release
themselves from a ceiling
stripped, painted indifferently
by the tips of sponges,
broomsticks’ spearheads
that don’t offer meat
the way skewers do, as seen on TV.

stretch and press
all draped plastic
and take a moment
holding breaths,
taming tensions,
catching pace,
though ducking under metal
lies null in the draft
that dances unabashedly
all the way
from thoughts’ openings.

Cat No. 72 of the 500 Cats Project

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “the house often passed

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s