005. 49 by John HerzogI was touched once,
a vase picked up and
shattered like the windows
into an empty house
whose walls crawl with
mildew, floors moored in
urea, barren, its front
door marked condemned,
sitting at the end of your
street for twenty years, pieces
waiting for the right foot to
make me feel worth being
stepped on, worth entering,
touched again, from shards to
splinters, foundation crumbling
below the weight of the rotted
facades above; before the waste
turns too toxic, let the lot
be razed and rebuilt
01/08/2018 Author's Note: CTA bus route 49.
Posted on 01/08/2018 Copyright © 2024 John Herzog
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/09/18 at 03:14 AM The building's voice here is so strong, the stark details presented in these short couplets is so effective, devastation and hopefulness both a part, one wonders what will happen next. Really a fine one to read aloud. |
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