Classic Poem

children grow in other people’s houses
collecting bits and pieces of nuance and unrhyme

sponging feelings left in turbid air to dry
no wonder to be left alone to fend

with latch unkeyed, they wander through
blank hallways tripping over unmet

obligation, horrid disciples of impotent
gods, leftover sympathies strained by

circumstance, immobilized, till one day
the leaking of stagnant water passes through

the crevice in the center of the floor.


(Previously published in Gangway, Apr.2003)