PREVIOUS TENANTS
Signals
We all hide
behind closed doors,
old pine,
dusty streetlamps,
aimless poetics with a need for order,
failed mimicry we call progress.
A single boundary might suffice---
one unencumbered signal.
A crow wheeling overhead.
Rain to cleanse our mind's eye.
I am not your Rolodex.
Dear God, please don't enter my kingdom.
RENOVATIONS: