i really could've skipped today.

there's an awful absence of amity in an empty house.
that's real.
i mean,
there's no place like home,
but home all-alonely is no kind of place.
the emptiest spaces are the ones with their own kind of memory.
built into the frame, buried in the basement, raised in the roof,
squirreled away throughout the planks and plaster
and reflected back as bleary blurs like teary-eyed witnesses,
transparent like ghosts in night-lit windows.
if these walls could talk,
the mumbled messages, garbled and whispered secrets of an unlived eternity of veiled frailty
and intact imbedded excerpts of the unwritten annals of
what should've/could've/would've been happily ever afterwards are pantomimed
by the most unkind of charades.
playing house is and has always been playing pretend-
the rules are flexible, if only to allow for the bending and breaking of heart and home.
it's all so easy to confuse-
like sign language with clubbed fists, or sweet nothings from mute mouths...
yuuuuuuuuuuup.
another 'nother day, down to black skies and black moods.
hard styles and zero days and long dark nights with cold beds and gellid dispositions.
that's the kind of thing that really happens when i'm on my own.
sure,
i've got the big sexy Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
and sure,
home is where the heart is;
but there's a great big house-shaped hole right in the middle
of my hardened blood-pumping arterial barbarian boiler.
...and it's leaking like a sieve.
awwwwwwwwwww.
the whole has been replaced by apart.
c'mon.
and in it's stead, i've developed an affinity for an infinity of emnity.
you might be surprised to learn this, but i DO have feelings, neighbors.
the thing is, they're hard feelings.
***********
wow.
so, it's all really happening.
there's not much that can be done,
other than to endure or abjure.
i can't recant what i've recorded.
i said those things,
i did those things,
i still am, i still will.
i guess the object remains to be more.
of all of it.
nevertheless, there is never less,
regardless of the amount of mess it makes of itself;
never quiet, never soft.....