IN A VACUUM

A shell

empty, rattling

love sucked dry

web strewn, hewn from

old growth. Memories

packed into corrugated crates,

too late to redeem dreams;

no sentiment remains,

drained of all life, rife

for the wrecking ball’s mercy.

Swift justice never fast enough.

It’s tough thinking of home.

It’s probably just best to leave

well enough alone!

 

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

 

QUICKLY IN SEPTEMBER P.A.D. – DAY 17:  HOME IN A HOLLOW

NICE PLACE TO VISIT, BUT…

Each step carries its own creak,
you can never sneak or grovel
in a hovel. Picture askew
with draperies, maybe pictures
askew too. A void of space
black holes refuse to enter.
Wind blown whistles through window gaps,
tapping, branches reaching, backhanded slaps
against the roof, proof of her verity.
It is a rarity to be noticed for right reasons.
At the center of the block between
houses that should be knocked down.
Just a space, facing west;
not fitting in with the rest.
A gold tooth in a decrepit smile
and such. It may not be much,
but it is home.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

QUICKLY IN SEPTEMBER P.A.D. – DAY 17: HOME IN A HOLLOW