a mattress on the floor
Crass poster on the wall
black and white tele
on an upside down milk crate
in the corner
glad bag full of dirty washing
behind the door
no table in the dining room
there is no dining room
no dining room
just a generic breakfast nook
and it’s entire surface area
a sea of single serve cereal receptacles,
oodles of noodle boxes,
and assorted tobacco packets;
all emptied long ago
holes in the ceiling
holes in the floor
holes in my jeans
but they were there before!
a broken window pane
hangs jaggedly
haphazardly
dangerously
it lets part of the outside in
and the cold/heat
and other airborne invaders
a dented aluminium baseball bat
sits between a wheezy fridge
and a recalcitrant oven
cereal bowls
full of cigarette butts
toilet bowl
full of stains
carpet
full of pinhole burns
funny smells
so full of funk
from everywhere!
dishes in the sink
from the fifties
the only thing clean
is the bong
the grass in the back
is four foot high
not much better
out the front
the light on the porch
has been smashed
the front door
has been nailed shut
an old hand written weathered sign
hangs flaccidly,
aged and faded
it tells faintly of vague directions
laced with profanity
About the Creator
Brenton F
It's just a token of my extreme - Frank Zappa
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
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Comments (4)
I love the vibes this evokes, I’d love to live somewhere like that ;)
Bahaha. I have not done shared housing for years and even then it was brief, can’t do it for too long. Anyhow this um..I hope extreme house made me laugh multiple times. You are on roll this week!!
Now that's a haunted house, lol. I'd rather stay with a serial killer provided that he's a neat freak, lol. Loved your poem!
Your writing is so poignant, Brenton. Well done.