PREVIOUS TENANTS
Our Kitsch Type
Pig pixel houses far afield of dour
time; unabashed meanness forested
a new retaliatory style - the big proxy floor -
mutilated.
Mastic fruit dwellings, bank rages
in the liability of debtors' hooks
whose lives implant their noses on the walls
with landborn mazes; "let's smell
like we belong," they whimper in these malls
of well-intentioned
folly ether.
My Dude
sold out our dug-out, daft old timber house
for two doors of jewels, small faith in-hand,
Fleur-de-lis mendacity. Thus espoused
for comfort, I bled the blue family spleen,
surging reverence for a satiated teen.