The Impression, Relevant to the Occupant

 

 

            Sometimes three stacked chairs and a barbeque smell

            Daily a mountain, snow covered, majestic, angry, powerful

            Dreams of strange fighting

            The cats yowl

            The bathroom with the open window

            Where men can see me piss, I fear

            A small and untended garden

            There is a club on the car for protection

 

            A sword with a sign: IN CASE THE PEN FAILS

            A wallet with perhaps five dollars

            Left over cans

            One fine ass floor, if I do say so myself. Epic craftsmanship.

            And books. Of course, books.

 

            A slab that some fool poured

            And never realized the potential of.

            This fence, this fence is unbearably crooked

            But someone stood over it once and said,

            Damn, but this is a fine fence.

 

            Not a cloud in the sky

            Unless it rains

            The mailman leaves signs that say

            DOG 6-15

            But my dog is dying.

            He doesn’t know that. I forgive him.

 

            The colors are all matching, of course, just in the wrong place.

 

            Papers of lazy children amidst the remnants of my poor lawn care

            Such a blue true dream, American style, for the starving.

            Black as the people, my cynical love

            This place, I call my home.