If I'm not home
who's going to collect
the paper out of the flower
pot and the mail from
its dull little igloo?
If I'm not home
who's going to clean
the blinds and scrape
the deserts from
the fans?
If I'm not home
who's going to hold
the white walls straight
and keep the roof so
delicately balanced?
If I'm not home
who's going to tie
the corners of this helium
house to proud little plot
just south of campus?
If I'm not home
who's going to open
the doors and windows
bucketing in air from the
zephyrous sea outside?
If I'm not home
who's going to ask
where I've gone
when the fat woman
and her kiwi fingers
come rummaging through
your pockets for rent?
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