rooms within, rooms without

1/23/2004 3:46 AM

crumbs and crumpled paper
crowd this apartment like ghettos of refuse
but in my mind all is clear
scrubbed and stripped to the bone.
or is it now in my mind that i see?

these walls shine, this floor is polished
like brazen temples in ancient sunlight
and inside, inside, inside...
i'm crawling like the coon, rummaging
for the last rotten scraps of joy
in this mold and motley residue
i call my father's captive
my revived soul

what little there is left
should be burned and turned coal
should be burned and
should be burned
until it is
no more