Call Me to the Door (a poem)

Call Me to the Door (a poem)

See your
self, as someone else’s belongings
rush into your space,
crowding the already flooded
floors,
boxed and stacked
without a contact
to discuss placement,
or payment for this unintended,
unwanted distraction.

See your
shelves as someone else’s junk
causes chaos across your walls,
littering the already muddied
mirrors,
Packed and compact
without a seal
to break open
upon which the unquantifiable,
unknown quantities are released.

See your
place as someone else’s eyes
spying through your windows
scanning the already foreign
fatherland,
decorated and furnished
without a common
attachment to attract
senses back to a history
heightened by people.


David A. Church

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