By Kristal Peace
This old house has plenty of room
Plenty of space for
The silent treatment:
There are four elegant bedrooms that lend comfort
To each person nursing a grudge;
The spacious, sunlit kitchen accommodates everyone
As they take their meals alone.
The living room is a cozy gathering place
For insults, accusations, evasions, deceits,
Prevarication, dissimulation, and yelling.
And the porcelain bedecked bathrooms are clean and inviting:
The perfect places to sob in silence.
The finished basement has a gorgeous
Obsidian room, where the memories of our
Joy, happiness, and contentment
Fester and mold in neatly stacked boxes,
Safe from the artificial light upstairs.
Behind the house, there is
A sprawling, picturesque garden
Where resentment, rage, and rancour grow,
Their blossoms perfuming the fetid air.
And the backyard offers a breath-taking view
Of the horizon of our disfunction.
There is also a three-car garage where we park
The polished chrome smiles we show the world.
The only thing missing in this old house is
A library: we have no place
To chronicle and shelve our decline.
But the house is perfect otherwise,
Yet my eyes can’t help but covet the
Simplicity and serenity,
Minutia and monotony,
The babble and banalities
Of our neighbours.
Category: Featured, Poetry