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Me an old house
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Poems by ratnaprabha raykar : 11 / 27
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Me, an old house
demolitioners descend upon me with chisel and crowbars
strike me where i am vulnerable most
they look at me with glee
deciding which part of me is juicest
out come my doors and windows
which lineup with SALE labelled on them
devoid of walls i still live on
hoping my walls will rise again
but hey what do i see
walls rise to reach the sky
shaping cubicles large and small
each vying with the other
trying to glean shoppers from each other
My spirit is tattered between them
Am I living or dead or multiplied