Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Witch-House by a French Colonial

Note: Before reading I ask you to imagine some future civilization coming across these words a thousand years from now. This poem is all that remains of American culture.


French doors, porched roof
beyond a gentle garden
and a child’s swing set
swaying in the breeze.
Picket fence obscures
a shelter skeleton
hidden by dense foliage.
grass winds up old stone
to meet a single door
and windows boarded shut
presumably to scare off
children wanting candy.


  1. "a shelter skeleton"

    Great wording, great image.

  2. Dwellings must have served as candy dispensaries...those children must have been crafty and scary little buggers to have to board up the windows to keep them out of the dwindling candy rations! Humans were strange creatures!!!


    1. I know, Chris. If only we could unlock more of these "humans" but alas, there is no Rosetta Stone. Oh, wait, there's tons of yellow boxes in the landfills that say just that! Score!

  3. insanity.

    and who are they!

    lovely little tid bit.


You've found your way inside my head and now there's no way out!