Sunday, February 12, 2017


A House is not a Home

The ottoman scoots closer
Reports of the latest crises
Striate the living walls
Dissolve to a salad of
Brownian spots
A signal the house needs food
I don't move
The ottoman quivers, shakes
Again, barks a warning.

Fire blossoms everywhere
Rampaging robots march with snapping claws
And crimson beams of fire
This is not real, but it's certainly distracting
It'll keep up till I do my duty.

I lever myself up
Stumble to the pantry
"I'm coming, I'm coming" I call
Uh oh
The food bag is empty
What else do I have?
The fridge flashes a low-food warning
I feel like Old Mother Hubbard
Except my dog IS my cupboard
Grab my keys and go to the door
But it stays shut.
"The grocery store! You want Purina All-House™?"
Nothing moves.
"And Home Treats™! Condo flavor!"
The door slides open.
When I get back I'll find out
What has been destroyed
And what has not.


Publ. Star*line

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