The House, Cracking

By | 1 May 2018

Enough to wake
the deepest sleeper
though still out there

by day I’m more
attentive lying down
by dark the strain

of stillness in
between each strike
a load to bear

as if some bone inside
were close to fracture
could snap in kinship

hearing that slap
in the face for a house
made of give and take

trying to settle but
it’s always been there
in every place whether

brick or timber
fibre cement
with feet of clay

heave or subsidence
thermal movement
each master stroke

a shock irregular
as clockwork
sound of one hand

it’s going nowhere
this cosmic joker
child with cap-gun

clueless what for
vast Christmas cracker
that lacks a token

somebody’s pulling apart

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