collection

                              one night I step into your place               clutching 

the servants’ quarter / door’s leather tag / I glimpse

the cabinet / since history’s business is to crave more

                                                            keys

          we / knock / on proprietor’s mouths

no. they’re not / his / 

they belonged to

a          European




< 

still. signs of Lamsey join every wall. cos

 real houses don’t fit in cabinets? cos

 we keep memories close?

 and health, closer >
                                                                           



- @ $180, tax deductable