I had a dream about a broken house.
Way way up north,
Where the mountain men live and the salmon swim
Missing panes and broken window frames.
A home so sturdy, you could pray it over.
In this broken house,
There were carpets and beds;
Dishes and grime;
Always soiling themselves
and coming undone.
In this broken house there were dogs,
And babies. Babies and dogs.
Gaping mouths, like baby birds, waiting for their food to be chewed.
always hungry; always howling.
Ruddy feet and breast milk stains.
In this house, there was no art.
They sold it all.
At auction.
At consignment.
On the street.
Walls covered in something’s and nothing’s
And in this broken house,
There was a broken mirror
And a broken woman.
Always folding, always cleaning
Always emptying herself
For a hungry mouth
Waiting for him to come home.
Waiting for him to notice the stains
Waiting for him
Waiting
I had a dream about a broken house
And when I awoke
You were
Gone.
