unfriended by the walls

it began when a door
required readjusting

down below
sticking to the floorboards

a physical thing
for intervention
or perhaps
a carpenter to talk to

who understood

the window’s problems
were more clearly

transparently neurotic
but still a form
of psychic discomfort
surrounded by blank stares

one by one
the foundation pieces
moved out
and then moved on

the outer walls
were tired
a vacation might refresh

a painting weekend
with a palette
of brighter shades

the kitchen
and the bedrooms
felt they could not bear
to hold up
when they’d been left
without support


fallen to the ground
and disheveled
unfriended and alone

the roof
is contemplating
entering a relationship
with a basement
that is little more
than a hole


Poem #489 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

11 thoughts on “unfriended by the walls

  1. Hmmm…I went into a house in London when I was looking for a house and it was not far off that. I could see through the roof, there was an old air raid shelter in the back , remnant from WW2 and although it was a terraced house joined on both sides to other houses it was sinking in the middle. I figured it was a job for professionals.

    Liked by 1 person

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